


All My Decepticons

by Darksidekelz



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Multi, Sitcom AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6856162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksidekelz/pseuds/Darksidekelz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron, once leader of the Decepticons, has loaded up his family, and hopped a space bridge to Earth, all in the name of escaping his Autobot-filled past.  Now with a new house, job, and reputation, it's time to welcome the Decepticons to a life like none they've ever had.</p><p>That is, life on a television sitcom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Because the Decepticons (especially TFP Decepticons) may as well be a dysfunctional sitcom family. 
> 
> This is an AU based in no particular universe, though most of our main cast is heavily influenced by TFP.
> 
> Also, there is a [theme song,](http://darksidekelz.tumblr.com/post/142228052589/because-everyone-knows-a-decepti-sitcom-is-not#notes) because I am a nerd. This is also linked in the text below.

Our show begins in a lovely little suburban neighborhood.  The sky is clear, and a slight breeze rustles the leaves in the trees.  We zoom in on a house, picturesque and welcoming, like something out of _The Brady Bunch_ , only, instead of being scaled to humans, it is scaled to giant robots.  Why?  Because how else are the giant robot inhabitants going to fit inside?

From somewhere in the distance, a polite round of applause can be heard.  Its origin is unknown.  There is not a soul around to provide it.  All is peaceful.

We’re inside now, in the living room – clean, yet home-y, rather counter-intuitively leaving the impression of a warm and loving family that doesn’t actually live there.   There is a sofa in pastel purple at the center of the room, a perfect place to gather and watch the television.  Behind, is a bookshelf full of meticulously-alphabetized books (also purple).  Natural light illuminates the room from two large windows, which frame a strangely out-of-place marble statue of the family patriarch.

Speaking of said patriarch …

The front door slams open, the soft wood of its frame splintering beneath the force of the blow.  The culprit behind such a vicious assault does not even spare it a glance.  He is tall and rugged, his silver plating scarred from years of battle, molded with intimidating spikes.  Less intimidating is the bucket-shaped helmet that covers his head.  Nobody would dare say such a fashion statement looks ridiculous, however – not to this mech, not unless they were willing to risk a brutal death immediately following.

This is the head of the household, Megatron, and he is on a mission.  He storms through the door, and in an exasperated, yet furious manner, calls out, the roar of his raspy voice filling the house.

“You have failed me yet again, Starscream!”

This ‘Starscream’ does not respond.  Perhaps he was unable to hear Megatron’s accusation over the sudden sound of laughter, filling the room.  Again, there is no visible source for this laughter.  It merely is.

Megatron, however, hears the laughter, and finds himself distracted.  He looks around the room, quirking an optic ridge, trying to understand where the chuckles and guffaws could possibly be coming from.

As though amused by this tyrant’s confusion, the laughter intensifies.

“Soundwave?  Is that you?” Megatron calls out, to a mech we do not yet know.  His tone of voice implies that such a thing would not be surprising, and yet, he remains uncertain.  Stranger things have happened to him than sudden, disembodied laughter.

Once more, the laughter increases in volume, as though toying with him.

The camera pans out as Megatron, growing increasingly angry, begins mouthing words at rapid speed, the promise of violence in his eyes.  But what he says will remain a mystery to us, for it is buried beneath yet more laughter.

_\- Cut to blackout-_

A blue sky greets us as the opening chords play of a song that sounds an awful lot like **[THIS](http://darksidekelz.tumblr.com/post/142228052589/because-everyone-knows-a-decepti-sitcom-is-not#notes),** only with a snazzy jazz saxophone intro, because who doesn’t love a snazzy jazz saxophone?

The camera pans down to show two handsome young mechs who we have not yet met (and will be described in more detail further down), sitting on a couch which is inexplicably on the front lawn of their home. The mechs in question are Starscream and Soundwave – we know this, for their names appear in  Comic Sans beneath their likeness (because Laserbeak thinks it’s pretty). But we remain with our new friends no longer than that.  We have other mechs to meet.

The theme song continues to play, cheerful sitcom lyrics over a heavy drum beat and even a helpful rap to provide us the exposition we would otherwise never have.   For those who did not click the link, the lyrics that you will not hear, are as follows:

♪♪ _Living hard, we’re working to get paid_ __  
Through the good times and the rainy days  
Years go by and don’t you think it’s strange  
A million summers, and we still don’t change♪♪  
  
[Rap verse]

Come upon Megatron leader of the Decepticons  
Workin’ hard for his degree at the university of Cybertron  
But he got tired of being surrounded by all these goddamn Autobots,  
Loaded up his family, hopped a space bridge to this backwater rock  
Got a job, got a house, got a rep for being bad  
Working hard, playing rough, trying to be a better dad  
Fighting, and living, and loving, and making up and getting mad  
Come all my Decepticons, welcome to the life you never had

While the merry little diddy continues its loop, we are greeted with a slew of images of happy, smiling bots living their lives, complete with various hijinks that preview things to come, for this studio has not the budget for original footage.

The on-screen text informs us that these mechs are called “Knock Out,” “Breakdown,” “Shockwave,” Optimus Prime,“ and "Megatron,” respectively.

A few more scenes of things to come play out on-screen, before a stylish title, “All My Decepticons” is dropped into the middle of the screen from on high, framed by our handsome mechs from earlier – the amenable Soundwave, and the irritated Starscream.  One more logo creeps up from below to inform us the name of our very first episode:

Episode 1:  Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

_\- Cut to blackout -_

“Dear Grimlock – That’s Me, Grimlock!  Dear Grimlock, I am your average mech.  I like cybercats and I hate going to the doctor. My home sports team is the best sports team, and the Autobot-Decepticon conflict is overrated.  However, I also have … baggage!  I am unhappy, I have problems, and I don’t know what to do. Please help me!  Signed – an Unsatisfied Viewer.

"Well Unsatisfied Viewer, me, Grimlock suggest you tune in to new talk show: _Me, Grimlock_ , Sunday nights at seven.  If not tune in, Me, Grimlock, hunt you, Unsatisfied Viewer down, and bash brains in.”

_\- cue the happy jazz instrumental –_

_Watch Me, Grimlock.  New episodes: Sunday at seven._

_\- Back to our regularly-scheduled programming –_

We stand in an unlit hallway at the top of the stair case.  From below, come the bellows of our Megatron, vibrating with such ferocity that a picture falls off the wall, shattering.

“Starscream!”

Into the living room strolls a runway model of a mech, with long legs and sweeping, expressive wings, and a dark grey helmet and red, white, and blue color palette that give him a randomly G1-esque appearance despite every other member of the household vaguely-resembling their Prime incarnations.  But we, as an audience, brush aside this strangely meta observation in favor of admiring the irate roll of the Seeker’s optics.  With a grating voice that stands at odds with his lovely appearance, the mech grumbles, “How have I failed you today, Lord Megatron?”

Megatron does not notice the disrespect in Starscream’s gesture.  He is too focused on his own, distressing issues.  "Have you seen those vehicles in the neighbor’s driveway?  The ones that appear to be moving in?“

He has, of course.  He is not blind.  But Megatron’s grumbling has thrown him for a loop.  He says, "I may have noticed something.  But why does it matter?”

Megatron whirls around, stomping forward and using his superior height to loom over Starscream, faces mere inches apart. Starscream would be terrified if this was not a daily occurrence.

“Tell me you didn’t happen to see the emblem imprinted on every.  Single.  Thing in that lot.”

“There was an emblem?” Starscream asks, his face a slew of conflicting emotions that should not be possible.  He is angry at his own lack of observance, fearful of Megatron’s impending negative reaction, amused by Megatron’s general buffoonery, and perhaps a little aroused.  Unfortunately, we find ourselves distracted from his fantastically expressive face by an eruption of canned laughter from overhead.

Megatron and Starscream politely wait for it to finish before continuing.

“Yes.  There was, Starscream,” Megatron elaborates.  "The _Autobot_ emblem.“

Starscream is shocked.  One hundred percent shocked.  Shocked enough to throw his arms up in an over-the-top, cartoony sort of reaction.  Megatron had moved the lot of them to a suspiciously Cybertronian-compliant Earth in an effort to escape all of those goddamn Autobots, as exposited in the theme song.  This was impossible!

"Autobots!  Here?!” he cries out, distraught.

But Megatron has regained his composure.  He turns his back on Starscream and peers through the blinds, deviously.  

In the neighbor’s yard, he sees a handful of despicably happy bots moving boxes out of the back of an oversized, trailer-bearing truck, and into the house next door.  He sneers, furious.

“Look at them over there, flitting about, having a laugh and – and _smiling_! No threats.  No violence.  Just one little happy family without a care in the world.  It makes me sick.”

Starscream tentatively steps close, optics full of concern.  "Megatron?“

Megatron, however, has no stomach for coddling.  He whips around, looming back over Starscream, with a wild fury about him.  "I.  Hate.  Autobots.   I want you to go over there and murder them for me. Horrifically, if you please.”

“Me?” Starscream says, pointing at himself with a baffled expression.

“Do you see anybody else I could be talking to, Starscream?”

“Soundwave?” Starscream suggests, pointing just offscreen to where Soundwave waits.  He is a slender, spooky thing, with no face and no voice.  He does, however, have something that trumps either of those expressive qualities.

He hits a button on his tape deck (which he also has, despite totally being TFP Soundwave).  The living room is suddenly filled with the sound of canned laughter.

“Shut up, Soundwave,” Megatron growls, without so much as taking his optics off of Starscream.  He has no time for jokes.  "Now, Starscream!“ he insists, advancing on the smaller mech.

Starscream backs away, optics shifting from side to side, as though seeking an escape.  "I beg you reconsider, my lord.  We don’t _really_ have to kill them.  All that would do is launch a police investigation, and then one of us will have to go to jail again – probably Breakdown, and _oh_ the mess!  Do you know how long it takes to clean energon out of shag carpet?”  He pauses for a beat, giving Megatron time enough to open his mouth, a reply on his lips, before jumping back in.  "And why do you always have to resort to violence first?  What if we didn’t do that for a change?  What if we just … invite them to dinner instead?“

Whatever Megatron had been about to say before, likely some choice criticism regarding Starscream’s taste in interior décor, vanishes without a trace.  Instead, he raises an incredulous eyebrow.

Canned laughter echoes around the spacious room, but this time, neither mech pays it any attention.  They politely wait for it to go away, before continuing their conversation.  Only, they don’t have the chance.  The laughter is replaced by the sound of a T-cog activating, and Megatron rushes back to the blinds.  He knows this T-cog.  It is old and powerful and wise – a T-cog he never expected to hear again.  It couldn’t possibly be!

But it is.

Across the lawn, the truck that had been carrying the sum of the Autobots’ worldly possessions has transformed into none other than Optimus Prime.

"Optimus Prime!” Megatron snarls, recoiling from the window.

A new sound erupts from the silent room.  But it is no longer the sound of canned laughter, but of a scandalized 'Ooh,’ once again courtesy of Soundwave.

The noise dies down, and with it, so too vanishes Megatron’s uncontrolled rage.  He wears a resolved expression, that of a mech with a mission.  He turns to Starscream, wearing a cunning grin, and says, “Starscream, forget what I said about murder.  For once in your pathetic life, you have come up with a good idea.”

“Then –”

“Yes!,” says Megatron, not bothering to hear what Starscream has to say.  "We’re inviting our dear new neighbors to dinner.“  He punctuates the proclamation with a sweeping gesture, that would surely rouse any crowd, but in the presence of only Starscream and Soundwave, seems perhaps, a bit too grandiose.   Starscream cannot resist the urge to roll his optics..

"Yes Lord Megatron”

_-Cut to black-_

“One’s a put-upon, down-on-his-luck schmuck, battling addiction and a growing list of dead ex-lovers.  The other’s a by-the-book academy bot with a penchant for wicked schemes and flipping tables.  But when the mayor is kidnapped, these two unlikely partners will have to set aside their differences and work together, to save not only the political stability of Autobot City, but maybe themselves as well.  

_"Buddy Cop,” coming this summer to a theatre near you.“_

_-Back to our regularly scheduled programming-_

We rejoin our heroes, as it were, in the living room once again, a few hours into the future.  Megatron is frantically pacing before the front door, but he is not alone.  Lounging on the couch, admiring himself in one of his own side mirrors is Megatron’s eldest son, the striking Aston Martin, Knock Out.  On the floor, curled into a sleepy ball is Megatron’s younger son, the ever-awkward lugnut that is Breakdown.  One gets the sense that he is napping on the floor only because Knock Out has claimed the entire couch for himself.

Also in the room, looming quietly, unnoticed in the corner, is Soundwave, because what else would he be doing?

"Optimus Prime and his family will be here any minute,” Megatron groans, picking up the pace with a frantic energy.  "We have to be ready for them.“             He then notices, from the corner of his optic, Knock Out’s flagrant lack of attention in his half-panicked mumbling. This is, of course, unacceptable to him. He stomps over, yanks the mirror out of Knock Out’s hand, and tosses it aside, where it promptly bounces off of Breakdown’s head.  Breakdown stirs, groaning.

"Get up, the both of you!  I need you looking presentable for the neighbors,” Megatron snaps, folding his arms over his mighty chest, and glaring.

Knock Out is not intimidated in the slightest. “Chill out, old man.  This is dinner, not the end of the world. There’s no need to throw things at Breakdown.”

Megatron, who is lacking some creativity due to the PG nature of this program, can only think to shoot Knock Out another wicked glare.    

Knock Out, in turn, figures it’s in his best interest to humor the alternate-continuity-warlord-turned-sitcom-dad. With exaggerated remorse, he says, “I mean, yeah.  This situation definitely warrants breaking my things.  Keep at it, Dad.”  But despite his show of defeat, under his breath, he can’t help saying, “Just one more year, then freedom.”

Megatron, temporarily mollified, decides instead to turn his attention to other, more important matters.  "Where’s Starscream?“

"He’s been cooking in the kitchen all afternoon.”

The canned laughter erupts from Soundwave’s corner at Megatron’s comical grimace.  One might surmise that Starscream is a bad cook.  Alternatively, one might surmise that Megatron pictured Starscream wearing an adorable apron, getting his domestic on, and suffered a minor brain module aneurism.  Take your pick.

“Oh,” he says at last, wearing a hundred-yard stare on his face.  He has seen things that cannot be unseen.  It would be better to change the subject.  "And Shockwave?“  

"Probably in the basement,” Breakdown shrugs. “He’s always in the basement.”

“Well, go get him!” Megatron snaps, finally coming back into his intimidating self.  "I need everyone here and presentable for Optimus Prime!“

"Yes Sir!”  Breakdown is on his feet in an instant, and hobbling off to a side-hall, where the doorway to Shockwave’s basement, colloquially known as 'The Dungeon’ resides.

Knock Out, however, sees no reason to interrupt his own, much-deserved lounging.  He throws a dramatic arm over his face and asks, “What’s so special about Optimus Prime, anyway?”

Megatron’s temper gauge is on the rise again, and he shoots Knock Out one more ineffectual glare, ready to explain to him the tragic backstory that exists between himself and the Prime.  Before he has the chance, however, there is a knock at the door.

Knock Out is forgotten as Megatron instead rushes over, pausing only to properly compose himself, before he throws the door wide open.  Standing before him is a familiar mech – tall, broad, and beautiful – a gorgeous collage of red and blue, curves and angles, sad eyes, and strong hands, and a presence that shoots pangs of longing through Megatron’s icy spark.  Oh no.

“Ah, Optimus,” he stutters.  "It’s been far too long.“  Smooth.  Very smooth. Optimus will never know that secretly, Megatron still wants him.

"The feeling is mutual, Megatron,” Optimus says, pleasantly, and for a moment, Megatron can only hope.  Just how far does that statement go?

His hopes are of course dashed, as Optimus enters the room, with a handful of bots – his _family_ , trailing behind him, the first of which is a tiny, scrappy little ball of yellow and cute that surely must be a nephew or something.

“Megatron, I would like you to meet my spouse, Bumblebee.”

The metaphorical floor falls from beneath Megatron, and his world turned to hate – hatred for that tiny, ugly little Autobot, who is far too young and inexperienced to be Prime’s partner.  In fact, the fact that this bot is as young and small as he is, calls into question Optimus’s taste in bots.  This is absurd!

But Optimus fails to notice Megatron’s minor breakdown.  He is instead focused on introducing the remainder of his family.

“And these are my children: Arcee,”

“Hello,” chirps a sweet, pink little Autobot, with a dome-shaped head.  

“Cliffjumper,”

“Pleasure,” nods a small red bot bearing a strong resemblance to Megatron’s newest arch-enemy.  

“And Mirage.”

“Hi,” says the third bot, a graceful speedster that could not have possibly been the offspring of any of the bots present.

Optimus and his family watch Megatron expectantly now, and dawning creeps up on our hero.  Oh of course, how rude of him!

“Ah, introductions.  Yes.  Those are important.”  He looks frantically around the mostly-empty room, for someone to present to Optimus, ideally someone who is not a total embarrassment.  

“Well, I’m sure you remember Soundwave,” he says at last, beckoning the shady bot from the corner.

“I could never forget Soundwave,” is Optimus’s shaky reply.   _Nobody_ could ever forget Soundwave.  Not after 'The Incident.’

In response, Soundwave offers Optimus Prime his most polite stare of greeting.

Another frantic scan of the room leaves Megatron with no choice.  He must present the second most disappointing mech in his life.  "And here is my eldest, Knock Out.“

Knock Out does not bother acknowledging their guests. He is too busy admiring himself in his other side mirror.  "Lookin’ good.”

It goes against every instinct Megatron has to ignore such a rebellious transgression, but he cannot lose his temper – he has to impress Optimus.  Instead, he looks around for his next victim.  "And, uh …“  But no one else is there.  Starscream _could_ be in the kitchen, but Megatron does not know for sure.  However, he _does_ know where Breakdown and Shockwave are.

"Excuse me.  Just one moment.”

He marches over to the basement door and slams it open before disappearing into its welcoming depths.  The Autobots watch this display, faces wracked with awkward discomfort, which only intensifies as the off-screen shouting reaches their audials. To the untrained optic, it would appear that Megatron had just lost his temper.  Of course, the _trained_ optic would know that these actions are completely mundane around here, as evidenced by Knock Out’s lack of a reaction.

“Primus, if there was another me, I would _so_ make out with him.”

Awkward canned laughter follows the off-hand comment.

By the time it clears away, Megatron is crawling out of the basement, with Breakdown in tow.  Breakdown has a number of eerie wires jutting out from his frame, clipped off, as though he was removed from some sort of 'scientific’ contraption in a hurry.  Behind the pair, follows Megatron’s creepy, unhygienic brother, Shockwave, whose movements lack the harried ferocity of Megatron’s.  One gets the feeling that Shockwave does everything at his own pace; the world can merely follow.

“This is my other son, Breakdown,” Megatron says, dragging the disheveled mech to his feet.

Breakdown peels a few of the stray wires from his joints, cringing from pain and disgust.  "Ow.  Also, ew.“

Megatron sneers at the undignified sight, and shoves Breakdown behind him, in an effort to hide his embarrassment.  Instead, he directs his guests’ attention to the equally-embarrassing  single-optic’d, purple ball of spikes and fins at his back.  "And this is my brother, Shockwave.”

“We are robots,” Shockwave says, with a disconnect in his voice, as though his mind is far, far away.  "Dinner is illogical.  Also siblings.  Just how are we 'brothers?’  We do not share parents.  We do not have parents.  And for that matter, how do you have 'sons?’  This is all incredibly illogical.“

Megatron, with an embarrassed grin on his face, casually puts himself between Shockwave and Optimus.  "Oh that Shockwave.  Isn’t he just the silliest?”

Optimus takes a moment to respond, the confusion in his optics spelling out his complete bafflement with this situation. He is not entirely sure how to proceed, but also knows that he is socially obligated to say _something_.

“Well Megatron, I must thank you for inviting us into your home.  It will be good to rekindle our friendship, and forge bonds between our two families. Here,” he says, holding up a large cube, its contents obscured by a foil wrapper.  "I’ve made Energon Casserole.“

"Oh Optimus,” Megatron smiles, through his shame and panic.  He can already hear the shrill screams once Starscream finds out that the dinner he slaved over for hours will go to waste.  Still, better Optimus’s casserole than Starscream’s … _whatever_ hoity-toity dish Starscream made.  Optimus is a perfect mech.  It stands to reason that he is also a perfect cook.  "You shouldn’t have.“

- _Cut to black_ -

"Cosmic Rust.  Deadly.  Highly Contagious.  Spread through the air.  Spread through touch.  You may think it’s scare tactics.  You may think, 'but Ratchet!  I’m young and fit as a Prime!  How could _I_ get Cosmic Rust?  Well, it can happen to _anyone_! ANYONE!!  Imagine, your plating corroding away bit by precious bit, until there’s nothing left of you.  There is nothing sexy about a rust infection.  That’s why _I_ , as an actual doctor, and _not_ a paid actor, recommend Corrostop.  Take it three times a day, and the Rust goes away.

"Side effects may include grogginess, joint stiffness, camel toe, nausea, vomiting, an erection that last more than four hours, hyperactivity, petrification, out of body experience, growling, and sudden death. Consult your physician before you take Corrostop if you are Alien Pregnant or a Main Character.  And once again, there is _nothing_ sexy about Cosmic Rust.”

_This has been: a Public Service Announcement_

_-And now, back to our regularly-scheduled programming-_

The scene opens on the kitchen, as the family sits down at the beautifully decorated dinner table.  There are doilies!  And rose-shaped napkins.  Starscream has really outdone himself.

On the table he sets his masterpiece, a three-tiered rainbow of crystallized energon precariously held in place by the grace of impossible physics alone.  He has clearly put his entire soul into the preparation of this masterpiece.  

Unattended on the counter sits Optimus Prime’s energon casserole.  Megatron knows which one he wants.

It all happens so quickly.  The table goes flying across the room, sending doilies, napkins, and most tragically, the energon masterpiece hurtling away in slow motion, while everybody displays their most comical, over-the-top reaction face. Starscream has actually begun weeping, as his hard work slowly trickles down the wall like so many broken dreams.

_-Jump Cut-_

The scene opens on the kitchen, as the family sits down at the sparsely-decorated dinner table.  It appears to have been duct taped together from whatever shards remained of the original.  In front of every occupant is a bowl of sensible energon casserole, which glows a dull purple – the color of a nice, homespun meal.  It warms Megatron’s icy spark.  In unison, everyone takes their first bite.

There is no over-the-top cartoon reaction, simply a content family enjoying their dinner (as well as Starscream, whose tears of impotent rage have drowned out the succulent flavors of the casserole for him alone)  Breakdown pauses in between bites to pay Optimus a compliment.

“This casserole is really good.  One might say it’s _perfect_.”

“Thank you,” said Optimus with a shy smile.

Knock Out, not to be outshone, leans over his bowl, propping himself up on a lazy elbow, a sultry look in his optics. “And you aren’t lookin’ bad yourself,” he grins.  "Loving the finish.  It’s perfect.“

"Thank you,” says Optimus again, albeit the genuine glow has vanished from his optics.  He appears uncomfortable.

Seeing this, Shockwave takes an opportunity to jump in.

“And your children…” he begins, watching in awe as Arcee, Mirage, and Cliffjumper sip down their meals in respectful silence.  "They behave in a manner that indicates respect and restraint.  It would be tempting to describe them as perfect.“

By now, Megatron has realized what his family is doing, and he is not amused.  Damn that stupid sexy Optimus and his stupid perfect family!  How _dare_ they be so much better than him!  He’s only human … well, Cybertronian.  But he does not react.  The guests are upset enough after that heinous table flip that he had _absolutely nothing to do with._ One wrong move now, and they might split.  He settles on glaring down his side of the table, haphazardly tipping his empty bowl.

Optimus too, seems to suspect that he is being singled out, and mercifully decides it’s time to put a stop to it … in the most Optimus way he can.  "And I thank you too,” he nods towards Shockwave, before offering a small gesture to the rest of the table.  "Thank you everyone.  Your family is too kind, Megatron.“

On the spot, and under fear of looking like a complete dickbag, Megatron can say nothing but, "Thank you.”

“And your wife, as well,” Optimus adds, causing Starscream to perk up.

“Wait, do you mean me?” he says with a doe-like innocence that can only be feigned, before giving a dainty little laugh. “I’m not his wife,” and then, under his breath, so quiet, one wonders why he even bothered saying it aloud, he adds, “yet.”  An icy sheet falls over the room, though the non-Starscream occupants would be hard-pressed to understand why.  One might get the impression that Starscream is bitter about something.

'One,’ in this case, being Optimus.  "And I would like to apologize to you, Starscream, in regards to the food.  I had only hoped to be helpful.  I had not realized that I would cause so much trouble for you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Starscream snorts, unmoved.

They say that every seven minutes, any conversation will suffer from the dreaded, the abhored awkward pause.  This conversation is no different.  Our heroes and their guests sit around the table, distracted by the remains of the casserole, trying to pretend they didn’t witness the rejected apology between Optimus and Starscream, dozing, trying to fit in – and the silence stretches on, long past its welcome.  It is up to one handsome young mech to break it.

“So, how do you guys know each other?” Knock Out says, drawing Optimus’s forlorn stare away from his empty bowl. At least for a moment.

Once the question processes, Optimus makes a point of looking anywhere but at any of the table’s occupants.  His hands clench in his lap, and this thirty foot hulking mech of power and grace, appears to have become flustered.  How suspicious.

“Oh,” he stutters.   “Uh…”  He looks briefly to Megatron for help, before deciding that this is a bad idea, and jerks his optics back to Knock Out, trying his hardest to save face.  This time, when he speaks, his voice is calm and strong.  He has his cover story.  "We were close back in our college days.“

"Intimate, even.”  

And here comes Megatron to ruin it.  From the surrounding room, a the sounds of several dozen voices, vocalizing a scandalized 'oooh’ in unison can be heard. A few of the Autobots look around, clearly unused to having their emotional moments punctuated by the soundtrack.

Megatron has had enough as well.  "Shut UP Soundwave.“

Soundwave retorts by playing the laugh track again.

But once the laughter has cleared and the silence resumes, Optimus is no longer able to hide from the truth, least of all under Bumblebee’s offended gaze.

"It is true,” he confesses.

But Megatron is not content to leave it there, oh no.  "Yes,“ he sneers, turning to the appropriately scandalized Autobot children. "I once knew  your father, both inside, and out.”

At the wildly inappropriate statement, Cliffjumper claps his hands to the sides of his helm, screaming in an effort to drown out the memory of what he’d just heard.  The significantly more mild reactions of disgust from Arcee and Mirage are lost in the chaos.

But the message reaches beyond the boundaries of its targeted audience.  Of course it does.  Megatron was making no effort to be subtle.  Much to Starscream’s increased ire.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.   _Interfacing_?”  He throws an offended hand to his chest, like a dainty southern belle, and then, with a shriek, added, “That’s disgusting!

By this point, Optimus has buried his face in his hands, battle mask deployed.  Bumblebee, who seems to have adopted his TFP counterpart’s mannerisms (and spooky optics – optics that can stare right through a person’s _soul_ ), begins emitting a series of horrified beeps, turning red all the while.  By this point, he was indistinguishable from Cliffjumper.

"Wait,” says Arcee, tanks too strong to turn at the implication of hot and steamy Megatron/Optimus action.  Her mind is busy realizing the deeper meaning behind Starscream’s words.  "You mean you don’t …“  She makes a lewd gesture with her hands, a gesture that might resemble a basketball being thrown through a hoop, a train entering a tunnel, or whatever it is that passes for _human_ sexual intercourse – she’s never bothered to check.  

Megatron folds his arms, slumping his shoulders in a dramatized, put-upon sigh.  "We just go up to the room whenever we’re in the mood and get off on screaming at each other.  I haven’t had sex in years.”

A long, horrified silence follows the comment. Nobody knows how to respond to this comment, nor wants to.  

This time it is Soundwave who breaks the silence. He’s not sure whether or not such a reveal should be considered funny, but he plays the laugh track anyway, helpless to respond in any other way.

“I hate this family,” Knock Out mutters, burying his face in a palm before sneaking out the door.  

Megatron notices, and, in a vain effort to keep the evening from falling apart, follows, calling out, “Get back here young man!”

The moment he disappears into the other room, chaos unfolds, conveniently tracked by Soundwave.

Bumblebee, still red from anger, beeps reproachfully at Optimus Prime, gesticulating like a mech deranged, all the while.  Optimus tries to defend himself.

“I’m sorry honey.  It was a long time ago.  I promise, you are the only one I have feelings for.”

Breakdown, meanwhile, is trying to strike up a conversation with Arcee.  "So, you got a boyfriend?“ he asks with his best doofy grin.  Arcee scowls, preparing to tell off this suitor, but Cliffjumper gets there first.

"Are you trying to pick up _my_ sister?!  Dude, you like, just met her!  At least like, chat with her for a bit before jumping to that question. Dude!  Come on!”

Mirage hunches in his chair, burying his face in his hands.  "Awkward,“ he says, and then slowly disappears from sight.

Shockwave discreetly sneaks from the room the moment Megatron returns, wearing a surly frown.  Before he can reproach Shockwave, Starscream jumps into the shot, getting as close to 'in your face’ as he possibly can, given their height difference.

"You invited your college _sweetheart_ to dine with us?!  You flipped my table, Megatron!  Destroyed hours of the labor of my love, so you could have his – his casserole?!  You’re trying to get back together with him, aren’t you?!”

Megatron ignores Starscream’s ranting, which would usually be ever-so arousing for him, choosing instead to look out on the chaos of his house – the arguments, screaming, flailing – cats and dogs getting along.  It is madness.  He has had enough.  

His voice rings out across the room as he yells as much.

“Enough!”  

All at once, the fighting ceases, and everyone turns to face him.

Casually, he tosses Starscream to the side so that he can address the room without any barriers between them.  "I will not allow this nonsense to continue,“ he growls.   "We need a distraction.  Something we can do as a group to let out our pent up aggression towards each other.” Others being to nod in agreement. Yes, a distraction sounds like a great idea.  "Any ideas?“  And then the agreement promptly turns to disagreement.  Nobody wants group-cohesiveness to rest on their shoulders. Well, there _is_ one bot.  "Soundwave?”

Soundwave holds up a robot-sized version of the classic party game, Twister.

“A good idea, Soundwave,” says Megatron, smiling.  Twister is a great game, challenging a bot’s strength and flexibility.  It is sure to be a hit.  

The others don’t seem to think so, however.

Starscream throws up his arms, furious.  "You’re despicable,“ he snarls, before storming out of the room.  Megatron reaches out a hand, as if to catch him, but holds back.  Optimus is still here.  Speaking of …

"Actually,” says Optimus, “I think this may be a good time for us to leave.  Thank you for the invitation, Megatron.  I am sure we will be,” he pauses, unsure of an adjective worthy of tonight’s experience.  "neighbors.“

"Come now children, let’s go.”  He ushers Arcee and Cliffjumper away from the table and towards the front door, along with Bumblebee.  "Has anyone seen Mirage?“  He mumbles from offscreen, before the door closes behind him.

Now, it is just Megatron, Breakdown, and Soundwave. They stand alone in the awkward mess of upturned chairs, and shards of table, and energon, still glistening from the wall.  It is a solemn moment.

"So … are we still gonna play Twister?

Breakdown’s inability to read the atmosphere is the last straw in this disaster of a night, and Megatron storms out, screaming.

And then there were two …

Breakdown looks at Soundwave.

Soundwave looks at Breakdown.

-CUE END CREDITS-

_-Written by: Darksidekelz and the Mysterious Stranger-_

_-Theme song by: Darksidekelz-_

_-Characters played by: themselves-_

_-Special thanks to: Ramen-_

Beneath the boring credits, we see the Twister mat, laid out in the living room, the furniture shifted aside to make way. Breakdown and Soundwave have gotten themselves all tangled up on the mat, while Rumble sits casually to the side, issuing commands.

"Left hand, yellow,” he says, and they obey. “Right foot, blue.  Left foot yellow.”

It is a stretch.  The yellow circles are too far away to reach like this.  Breakdown would be sweating, had he the glands.  But there is one way he can avoid losing.  

He allows himself to topple over, hoping to take Soundwave out with him.  He is not, however, prepared for Soundwave’s surprising hardiness.  Instead of collapsing in a mess of limbs, Breakdown finds himself rolling off the ball of lithe, pointy angles, and smack onto the floor. Soundwave is immediately back up on his feet, performing his very best Final Fantasy victory pose.

All around the room, the sounds of triumphant canned laughter can be heard.


	2. Scream and the Holograms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream, annoyed by the lack of money being spent on himself, does the unthinkable, and gets a job. That's right, he and Soundwave have started a band!

Same old town, same old house.  This time, we will skip the details, but know that it is late in the evening when we open, our point of focus highlighted by a picturesque sunset. 

The scene quickly shifts indoors, into a bedroom.  The lights are off, but an ambient purple light illuminates the photographs on the walls – a cybercat, a pair of birds, a pair of loud-mouthed thugs with either red or blue paintjobs (it is difficult to tell in this light), and a tyrannosaurus and stegosaurus that nobody cares about, but it is not just photographs.  There are posters as well, posters of a musical group – a group that, much like the owner of this room, obscure their faces and produce fabulous music.  One might say, that this room's owner, sees a bit of himself in this duo. 

Right now, there are smooth jams with an electronic beat sounding, but not from any sound system, because this room needs no sound system.  Its owner _is_ the sound system.

Indeed, Soundwave is getting his _Digital Love_ on, dancing right through the applause that welcomes us to the show, wasting the series budget, and having a great time right up until the moment when Starscream slams open the door with murder in his optics.  Immediately, the music cuts off, and Soundwave turns a faceless stare on the intruder.  It is difficult to tell whether he is angry, or embarrassed.

Starscream, however, is used to Soundwave's stares.  He is unswayed from his purpose.

"Will you turn that off?" he shrieks.  "Some of us are trying to scheme!"

**- _Cut to Blackout -_**

Remember the opening from the last chapter?  Yeah?  Well that hasn't changed.  Knock Out is still flirty, Breakdown is still awkward, Shockwave still does science-y things, Optimus is still absolutely done with everything, and Megatron is Megatron. 

Finally, the amenable Soundwave and the irritated Starscream arrive to present to you this month's episode:

**Episode 2:  Scream and the Holograms**

**- _Cut to Blackout –_**

"Bugs," says Swindle.  "No one wants 'em."

"Waspinator love bugs!" says Waspinator.

"They eat your grain, they buzz around your head, they're lousy shots."

"Waspinator great shot!  Waspinator always shoot doggy-bot right between optical sensors!"

"But live in fear no more.  That's right, for a limited time only, I've got for you one six-foot aerosol can of Robotic Insecticide – kills Insecticons, Insectoid-Predacons, and maybe even your standard Earth pests – I dunno, I haven't checked."  He climbs up onto a stool, and hops onto the nozzle, using his whole weight to release a gaseous cloud into the air.

"AHHHH!  Is in Waspinator's eyes!!"

"As you can see, it is completely harmless to the common Cybertronian.  And also humans . . . probably."

"What Waspinator ever do to you?!"

"Also, for a limited time, every can comes with a free Morphobot.  So act now!  Only $19.99 plus 50% sales tax.  Plus $250 shipping and handling ($600 to Canada).  Plus $300 for any potential emotional scarring.  Product is restricted in all fifty states.  And 195 countries (except Canada).  Absolutely no refunds. . . . Swindle's Swag is not responsible for any alien pregnancies that result from exposure to Morphobot spores.

"MAKE THE BURNING STOP!!!"

"So call us today!  That's 1-800-SWAG!  Number may or may not work.  All fees still apply."

**- _Back to our regularly-scheduled programming –_**

Applause leads us back to our program.  We sit in the warm kitchen, filled with artfully placed clutter, that manages to make the place look both lived in, and miraculously clean.  Shockwave has ventured from his cave today, and sits at the table, filling out a crossword puzzle, and pretending to listen to the ranting of Starscream. 

"I don't know what Megatron is spending his heaping piles of cash on, but it's certainly not me," he gripes, gesticulating madly with a half-full cube of energon coffee.

Shockwave doesn't look up from his puzzle as he responds.  "The house, bills, feeding six bots, all of which does, in fact, trickle back to you."

But Starscream pays no heed to those words of wisdom.  "A bot's got needs, you know.  What does he expect me to do?  Starve?"

Shockwave's hand clenches around his pen, and ire fills his voice.  "You are illogical.  I am done talking to you."

Canned laughter sounds from on high.

Starscream and Shockwave both wait politely for it to finish before continuing with the scene.  Starscream chugs the last of his coffee, and slams the cube down, opting to stretch over the back of the chair, his wings all a-flutter, and throwing one arm dramatically over his optics.  "I want that fortress in the sky he promised me," he cries out.  "I want a new, sleek paint job.  I want Minicons and subjects and a lifetime supply of energon."

"You could always get a job," Shockwave says, unmoved by the display.

Starscream stares in complete and utter horror, repulsed by the very notion that _he_ would be subjected to work like a common mech.  Absurd!

Incidentally, the ridiculous face he makes is enough to trigger the laugh track.

Once he's recovered from the wave of shock, he tries for clarification.  "You mean, _menial_ labor?  Hah!  Nice try, Shockwave.  I, Starscream, am above such things."

Shockwave says nothing, but does give his head the slightest shake, ashamed that this is what the world is coming to.  Starscream doesn't see it, however, for he has already stormed out.

We follow him upstairs, where he is trudging along the unlit hall, dramatically posing next to portraits of Megatron, his face and frame emanating woe.  "Ugh.  If only there was some simple way to come up with untold riches," he mopes, falling to his knees, and looking up into the wacky sneer of the portrait before him.  An idea strikes him, replacing the sorrow in his face with thoughtfulness.  "Maybe I could rob a bank . . . Maybe –"

But his thoughts are interrupted by . . . LOUD MUSIC!  Loud music coming from the direction of Soundwave's room, specifically.  Starscream is none-too-happy about this turn of events.  In fact, he is livid.  He stalks off down the hall, fists clenched, gritting his teeth sharply, and prepared to give their resident freeloader the worst lecture of his life.

He throws open Soundwave's door, screaming, "Will you turn that off?  Some of us are trying to scheme!"

The music cuts off the moment the door flies open, and Soundwave turns a faceless stare on Starscream.  It is difficult to tell whether he is angry, or embarrassed.

Soundwave's non-reaction gives Starscream plenty of time to glance around the room.  He ignores the sentimental photographs, and focuses on the main draw – a certain musical group featuring a pair of faceless mystery-men (mechs?) with a distinctively robotic quality to them.  A very _successful_ musical group. . .

Wait a minute . . .

"Soundwave, you've got musical talent, right?"

Soundwave, rather predictably, stares.  Starscream, however, chooses to take that as an affirmative.  Perhaps even to the point of condescension.   Of _course_ Soundwave has musical talent.

Starscream continues.  "And I – I've got a voice to rival those of the robot angels!"

Soundwave doesn't laugh, but the laugh track sure does.  It is not enough to dissuade Starscream, however.  Nothing can stop him when he has a scheme.

" We should start a band!"

This time, the silence feels scornful.  How ridiculous that Starscream should have to explain himself to _Soundwave_ of all mechs.  But explain he does.  "No, hear me out here.  Just think!  You could be big – like your Drafty Funk.  And maybe someday, once we're rich and famous, you could even meet them, not as one of the masses, but as an equal."

Soundwave holds Starscream's gaze, for one long terrifying moment.  Starscream's future livelihood is on the line.  Fame and fortune hinge on Soundwave's agreement to the plan.  If he could sweat, he would be sweating by now.

But finally, _finally_ Soundwave nods, slowly and deliberately, and Starscream's spark slows to its original pace. 

"Excellent."

**- _Cut to black-_**

"Lost in space, our wandering one.  Abandoned when he was far too young . . ."

A whimsical alien landscape appears to accompany the high-pitched, sing-song voice, and our young hero crawls out of the wreckage of his spaceship to lay his optics on this foreign land, and its alien inhabitants for the first time.

"My name is Wheelie, who are you?"

{Syntax Error.  Please rephrase question}

"Uhhh.  Oh!  My name is Wheelie, who are you?  What's your name?  How do you do?"

{!!  I'm sorry this translator is so picky, but my name is Daniel Witwicky.}}

_It's the start of a beautiful friendship._

A human child and an alien child frolic through the wilderness, going on the sort of adventures little kids have in an uninhabited wilderness (on the scale of The Jungle Book to Lord of the Flies, it would be Peter Pan).

_Until invaders from the skies threaten to tear them apart._

"Who are you?!"

{What will you do?}

"We . . . are the Quintessons."

There is a string of shots edited together, the tone of the movie gets dark.  We have reached full 'Lord of the Flies' by this point.  A random string of babbling nonsense follows.  From it, we can pick out a few gems:

"Spare me this mockery of justice!"

"Wheelie say meet friends today!"

"DANIEL!!!"

{It's all over}

"Quintessons rule, Cybertronians drool"

_This summer, see the movie that all critics are raving about, that proves that friendship transcends the boundaries of time and space and tentacle monsters from the heavens._

_WHEELIE._

**_-And now back to our regularly-scheduled programming-_ **

The scene opens in a picturesque park on a picturesque day.  Dogs bark and children play, and a gentle breeze drifts through the trees.  And then the Decepticons enter.

Knock Out leads the way, with Breakdown, and Shockwave in pursuit, their crew stomping any unfortunate landscape that happens to be in their path.  But this act is not malicious in intent.  They have a purpose today.  They are heading towards the amphitheatre, where Starscream and Soundwave's band, _Scream and the Holograms_ , is setting up to play.

"Okay, we're here," says Knock Out.  "I don't really know why, but here we are.  Standing in the crowd, our focus on someone who is distinctly _not_ myself."  He folds his arms over his chest in a huff.

"Don’t be dramatic, Knock Out," Breakdown chides.  "We're here to support Soundwave.  Besides, don't act so put-off.  I know you like this kind of thing."

"Ordinarily?  Sure.  When it's a band that I actually care about.  But when _this_ family's involved?" he gives an incredulous laugh.  "I mean, really.  'Scream and the Holograms?'  What a stupid name.

 

Shockwave steps forward, wearing a bot-sized pair of sunglasses over his single optic, his gun hand transformed into an umbrella.  One might get the impression that he does not like the sun.  "I find it more questionable that Soundwave has deigned to participate in one of _Starscream's_ schemes, of all things."

Knock Out and Breakdown can only stare as realization sets in.  Shockwave is absolutely right.  Soundwave is a perfectly reasonable and respectable mech, immune from manipulation, or so they'd all thought.  What in the world was Starscream holding over his head?  Why had he agreed to this?

But nobody chooses to address the thought on all of their minds.  Instead, Breakdown decides to change the subject.

"So, uh, there sure is no one here."

They are indeed the only people in the audience.  But it will not be that way for long.  The electric scream of a guitar pierces the air, turning the heads of passerby.  Starscream appears on the stage, shrouded in mist from nowhere, and wearing a glamorous studded jacket, gratuitous face paint, and a wig that would be at home in the music video of an 80s hair metal band.  Standing in the background, barely visible behind the smoke and his keyboard, is Soundwave, wearing a matching jacket and looking a bit disgruntled.  There are no guitars to be seen.

"Are you ready to ruuummmbbbllllee?" Starscream screams into the microphone, shattering the eardrums and audio sensors of all who hear him.  At the side of the stage, Rumble uses his pile drivers to shake the ground, drawing further attention.

Starscream continues, now that eyes are actually on him.  "Let's hear it for Scream and the Holograms!  For our first number, I give you, _Starscream-o_."  The crowd may not go wild, but Starscream sure does.  Soundwave boots up the instrumentals, and Ravage, Laserbeak, Rumble, and Frenzy even get in on the action, providing a slew of visual effects, from lasers to full-on hallucinations.  It is all very energetic.  Over the top of it all, Starscream blathers about incomprehensively, but the words MIGHT sound something like:

_STARSCREAM!  STARSCREAM!  FUCK YEAH!  STARSCREAM-oooooooooooooooooooh_

And then, slightly more eloquently:

_I'm rising up like Kup through the ranks of the Autobots_

_No, fuck the Autobots, I'm a motherfuckin' Juggernaut!_

_I got the power, comes the hour and I'm stagin' this coup_

_And Megs'll be trapped flat on his back like a tourist on Goo_

_'Cause no one can match me – brazen, crazed 'n ruthless_

_You thinkin' you can double cross me?  Who the 'eff is this?!_

_Go on an' watch your back, oh fearless leader_

_Playin' sayin' you're elite, or_

_I'm a traitor?  No YOU'RE a hater._

_I am an interrogator_

_Like Vortex, cast a hex, flexin' my power_

_There won't be a later, this here's our last hour_

_'Cause S-T-A-R-scream's settin' the stage with his rage a schemin'_

_Think you can keep me down?  Megs, you're dreamin'_

Out in the now healthy and energetic crowd, Knock Out and Breakdown appear to be enjoying themselves.  Among its other occupants, one might be able to see a big, green bulkster of a mech, a flashy yellow Lamborghini, one smooth operator, lurking in the shadows, despite his brilliant white paintjob, tapping his feet to the rhythm with a smile on his face.  Also, there are a handful of conspicuously well-dressed men in matching suits and shades, conferring amongst themselves in pantomime.  The music is too loud to understand their words.

The show continues for an entire set, before Starscream finally bids the audience:

"Thank you!  Good night Autobot city!" to a chorus of cheers.

"Holograms!  Holograms!"

The cheers continue on long past their  exit, but eventually the crowd disperses, until only our Decepticons and the gaggle of well-dressed men in suits remain.  The men approach Starscream and Soundwave and strike up a conversation, a conversation which is muffled by lingering background music, though there is much gesturing towards black leather briefcases.

Finally, that accursed music cuts out, and the contents of their conversation become privy to the viewer.

"And so, we'd like to sign you on to our label," the leader of the bunch says.

Starscream lets out a cry of jubilation, and turns to offer Soundwave a high five.  Soundwave leaves him hanging.  Not out of malice.  He just doesn't quite understand what Starscream is trying to accomplish by holding his hand in the air above Soundwave's head like that.  Is it a threat?  Seriously, what gives?

But mercifully, the awkward fallout of a missed high five is brushed over.  Instead, we are left with the bane of 80s sports movies everywhere.  That's right:

It's time for a MONTAGE!

As the budget for this episode was blown on the music budget, the song to accompany this montage is another hastily written original song, Scream and the Holograms's new hit single, a jaunty little pop number called, _Megatron Has Fallen.  I, Starscream, am Now Leader of the Pop Charts._   It goes a little something like this:

_Fury_

_Outrage_

_One more slight, feel his bite, crushing and killing me under his might_

_Am I defeated?  Disgraced and misplaced?  Has he thrown my ambition back in my face?_

_Will I accept his authority, superiority with me on the floor as he grounds me into the ground while proclaiming his right?_

_Hahahaha!  Not tonight_

_Look out Megatron_

_Watch your back, I'm on the attack, I'm dealing the danger, so keep talking your smack_

_Look out Megatron_

_I'm rising up, can't get enough of this studly young seeker not scared to play rough_

_To get all that he desires_

_So prepare the funeral pyres_

_'Cause when Starscream plays, he plays for keeps_

_So don't come crying when he guts you in your sleep_

_Yes look out Megatron_

_The stars will scream!_

 

But the music is not the important part.  Nay, that would be  the visuals, the things that Soundwave and Starscream do during this abbreviated passage of time.  The pair play shows, they go to parties, spend time in the recording room, so on and so forth.  Starscream even gets to dive head first into a swimming pool full of gelatinous green energon. 

We see their album cover.  Other hit singles of theirs include songs such as _All My Decepticons_ , and _Scream is Truly Outrageous._

Finally, however, the music clears up, and Starscream and Soundwave come to a stop in their green room before a show, the former reading a review to the latter, a frown on his lips.

"While it's true that chart topper, Scream and the Holograms, has a unique, raw sound to their music, it is clear that the real genius of the group is . . . Soundwave?!  You can tell just how hard he's struggling to make the most of Starscream's sub-par vocals, which are more reminiscent of an impaled dolphin than any actual music."  He ceases reading, crumpling up the article, his optics narrowed.  "Can you believe this rubbish?"

Soundwave says nothing.  He doesn't even spare Starscream a glance.  He is too busy making little outfits for Ravage to wear.  Because he is _that_ kind of pet owner.  Starscream, of course, fails to acknowledge that he's being ignored, and continues right on with his ranting, his threats.

"Don't you be getting any ideas.  This is _our_ group."  And then, with widened optics and a nervous timbre, as though he's come to a horrifying realization, he adds, "You _can't_ leave."

For the first time all conversation, Soundwave looks up from his crafts, and stares at Starscream, thoughtfully.

**_-Cut to black-_ **

"Have you ordered a package in the past several days – weeks – months – years?  Conventional mail too slow?  Not fast enough?  Fails to get your stuff to you in a timely manner again and again and again and again and again until you're ready to tear your own optics out and scream – scream because you really needed that proton fission emulator two days ago and it's still not here and how are you supposed to overthrow the leader of the Decepticons without your proton fission emulator – you needed that to make your convenience generator, and without a convenience generator you may as well be inconveniently inconvenienced – what even is up with that?!  But for all you sad, miserable little folks out there waiting and waiting and waiting for your packages to come for days – weeks – months – years on end with no end in sight, let me tell you that there IS an end in sight!

"That's right!  Starting right now, Blurr's Parcel, Package, and Pizzas is having its grand opening – that's right, NOW!  Like, at this very second.  Call in with your orders, and I'll have them to you within minutes – that's right!  Five minutes or your money back!  I'm that good – oh, hold up, looks like we got one already!"

He pauses, zips off to the right, and arrives from the left seconds later.

"Our first happy customer!  So remember, that's Blurr's Parcel, Package, and Pizza!  Five minutes, or your money back!"

**_\- And now back to our regularly scheduled  programming -_ **

We are back in the kitchen, in a scene that mimics the first.  The room is dim, cozy, occupied by two mechs doing their damndest to ignore one another.  Shockwave fiddles with his crossword puzzle.  Starscream idly listens to the radio, his chin resting on his hands.

From the tinny speakers of this low-tech human-made device, a smooth voice speaks out.  "That was the Ballard Crows with their hit single, _Seriously, Those Birds Down in Ballard are Fuckin' Crazy_.  But now, at number one today, is the new hit single from breakout solo artist, Soundwave - _Operation: Top the Pop Charts."_

With a put-upon groan, Starscream flicks the radio off.  "I can't believe he left me," he mutters to the table.

"I can," Shockwave responds, not bothering to look at Starscream.

A pause lingers in the air, for too long, as though both mechs are waiting for something, some sort of sound that should play after a certain occurrence, like a joke, perhaps.  But there is no sound.  There is only silence.

"Primus, it feels so _empty_ here without him," Starscream groans.

"Agreed."

Starscream huffs, and struggles for more content to keep the conversation going.  His optics fall on the radio.  "And this _human_ radio is an abomination!"  He swipes it from the counter, allowing it to shatter on the floor with a clang.  It's not enough to sate his fury.  He clenches his fists, steam wafts from the vents on his helm.  "Ooooh, I hate him, the traitor!  Look at how he's ruined my life!"

Shockwave, still inattentive, responds, "I laud your ironic choice of words."

Two can play at this game.  Starscream ignores Shockwave's comment, already working on a new scheme.  "Well, I'll show him.  I'll launch my _own_ solo career!"

This time, Shockwave _does_ look up from his puzzle.  "That would not be advisable."

But Starscream is already gone.

He has in fact, gone to a very large and unnamed musical event.  It is dark in the stadium, as thousands of cheering fans wave their little glow sticks in the air and make quite a hubbub.  A quiet mech like Soundwave, might find such a venue intolerable.  Fortunately, Soundwave is not the one onstage at this point in time.

_Starscream_ is onstage, performing his new single, _Soundwave is an Asshole_.  It goes a little something like this:

_Soundwave_

_Is such an asshole_

_He suuuucks_

_And he smells funny too_

_If I could I would punch him in his creepy-ass face!_

_But I'd probably just break my hand trying_

_'Cause Soundwave is an asshole_

_Who betraaaaays_

_His bandmates_

_For fame_

_And money_

_And I, Starscream, would never do anything like that_

_Peace_

 

Unfortunately, it is clear from his sophomoric lyrics and barest attempt at accompaniment that Starscream is no musical genius.  He quickly finds himself face-to-face with a booing crowd.

"I paid good money to be here!" he screams.  "How dare you boo me!?"

To which he is met with, surround-sound, "Boooooo!"  His wings falter, slump, and he stumbles off stage, dejected, but absolutely not crying!  Starscream would never do such a thing!  You plebes.

Of course, when Soundwave immediately follows up his performance to wild cheering – well – who could blame him if a single manly droplet of optical lubricant happened to poetically stream down his cheek?

Soundwave's performance is beautiful, moving, so very skilled that mere human audio devices cannot do it justice.  Use your imaginations.  Imagine the perfect song.  Now imagine Soundwave performing the perfect song.  Now you have Soundwave's song.  Good job!

But despite the audio bouquet of perfection and jubilation coming from Soundwave, Starscream remains unmoved.  He is angry, and rightfully so.  This was supposed to be _his_ band.  And then he was cast off like so much rubbish, while his bandmate moved on to bigger and better things.  He thinks that such a concept would make for a great song.  He'll have to pen it out when he gets home.

But then – THEN Starscream sees his salvation, in the form of special guest stars DRAFTY FUNK, or whatever – the very same band that Soundwave thinks is pretty swell.  Something to do with faceless electronic musicians, or something like that.  It doesn't matter.  Starscream sees his opportunity.  He takes it.

We cut back to Soundwave, coming offstage after what was the best performance of his career.  He is on a bit of an adrenaline high right now, still overflowing with energy, with charge, the need to move, to create.  On edge as he is, his usually calm spark stutters when he sees there, just off-screen, his musical heroes who need no introduction.  There are no words to describe his feelings right now.  But there _is_ a symbol, a symbol which he promptly displays across his visor.

"!"

The musical duo stare at Soundwave for a long moment.  The tension is real.  Just two faceless dudes staring at a third faceless dude, the rest of the world disappearing.  Finally, they shake their heads and walk away.

The world fades to grey, losing all sound, all joy.  Soundwave can only stare in shocked misery as his idols retreat into the abyss, their disapproval lingering all around.  Slowly, the background music recovers, providing the most forlorn cello solo you could imagine.  Soundwave drops his band vest to the ground, and stomps on it, before leaving, dejected.

Two weeks later, he is moping in his room, the curtains drawn, the _Moonlight Sonata_ setting his mood.  His walls have been stripped bare; the joy in his life has been removed.

There is a knock on his door; he doesn't acknowledge it.  This is okay, however, as Starscream lets himself in anyway.  But he is not alone; no.  In his arms, he carries an oversized boom box.  Once inside, he promptly drops it to the floor, and shakes his sore arms out. 

He pauses, as though waiting for something.  A laugh track perhaps.  But nothing comes.

He'll just have to speak on his own.

"Soundwave, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now."

This time Soundwave _does_ respond, sending a chorus of 'boos' Starscream's way.

Starscream cringes, but doesn't let the rampant disapproval sway him.  "Yes.  Boo me.  I probably did something at some point to deserve that.  Though it certainly had nothing to do with beguiling a former favorite band of yours with a sob story, in the hopes that their scorn would cause you to give up on your music career.  But yeah, you may continue booing if you are so inclined."  His smile is so very sincere; if Soundwave didn't know him better, he would be lured into forgiveness.  The booing continues.

Starscream accepts it patiently at first, but then it continues, for a good fifteen seconds, and shows no sign of stopping.  He begins to grow visibly irritated, tapping his toe on the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"All right, all right!  I get it.  I'm a major aft.  I know."  He throws his hands up, defeated.  "Look.  I just want to apologize.  I mean, you're totally the one at fault here, but –"

Soundwave flips him off.

"What I mean to say is," Starscream backpedals, trying harder than he ever has in his life to make things right with another bot.  "I really loved making music with you, and though I don't deserve it, I'd be honored if you took me back."

Soundwave says nothing.  But that's all right.  Starscream has a contingency plan.  He crouches down beside the boom box.

"And before you say anything . . ."  He trails off, just long enough to hit the 'play' button.

_Living hard, we're working to get paid_

_Through the good times and the rainy days_

_Years go by and don't you think it's strange_

_A million summers and we still don't change?_

This song may look familiar to some of you.  And that's because it is the OPENING THEME SONG!  It continues on, Starscream sitting by the boom box, silently mouthing the words, looking at Soundwave all the while.  Soundwave, in the meantime, has his attention fixed solely on the boom box.  If he had a face, a single tear would be running down his cheek.  Go ahead and imagine that anyway.

At long last, the song comes to an end.  Starscream, eyes full of hope, gazes at Soundwave.  Presumably, Soundwave gazes back.  It's hard to tell.  He has no face.

Either way, Soundwave transforms into a tape deck (because consistency!) and begins blasting out the budget for the rest of the season.  _One More Time_ is playing too, by that band that Soundwave _totally_ no longer cares about.  Who needs celebrity idols when you have dysfunctional family?

And as for Starscream?  Why, his face lights up, and he begins to dance in time.  Golly, what a happy way to end an episode!  We pan up, up, past the ceiling and into the cheery sunset.

-END CREDITS-

- _Written by:  Darksidekelz and the Mysterious Stranger_

_-Characters played by: A weird amalgamation of Transformers Prime and G1_

_-Special thanks to: Harutemu._

Beneath the slightly-less-boring-than-last-time credits, we see Starscream and Soundwave, united once more to play at the amphitheatre, where it all began.  A large crowd of diehard _Scream and the Holograms_ fans has gathered, already screaming and waving their SatH merch in the air.

Soundwave prepares to start playing the first note, but before he can, visions appear across his visor – visions of his great heroes shaking their heads at him.  He is horrified, too horrified to play.   Without playing a single note, he walks offstage, throwing down his band jacket.

Starscream, naturally, is a little bit confused.  And also upset.  Mostly upset, really.  "Eh?!  Soundwave?" he says.  "Where are you going?" he asks.  "Get back here this instant!" he screams.  "We've got a show to play!" he wails, long and loud, like a dying zebra.

With the true draw of the show gone, the crowd begins to disperse, leaving Starscream onstage all by himself, falling to his knees and cursing the heavens.

"No!  Come back!  Soundwave!!!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might actually write those songs at some point too. Because I can. 
> 
> Also, thank you Harutemu for help coming up with those commercials.


	3. Adventures in Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Megatron takes Starscream to the opera in hopes of impressing Optimus, Knock Out sees a golden opportunity arise before him. It's party time!

It is evening as we approach our scene.  But we don't remain with the establishing shot for long.  There is mischief afoot – mischief in the name of one _Breakdown_ who is currently seated before the closed door to Megatron and Starscream's room.  In his hand is a cup, which is pressed against the panel, to amplify the sound.  A random passerby _might_ assume that he was listening in on a private conversation.  But Breakdown would _never_ do something like that.

From the room beyond, we can just make out what Breakdown hears.

"No!" yells Starscream, only to be met by Megatron's witty retort.

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

This continues on for a short while.  Eventually, Knock Out happens by.

"Breakdown?" he asks.  "What are you doing?"

"Listening," comes Breakdown's distracted reply.  His mouth hangs slightly agape in a mystified wonder.  What does he know that we do not?

Knock Out, deciding that he has nothing better to do, decides to join his brother in the listening.  "Oh," he says, not really sure what one _should_ say at an event of such a nature.  Beyond the door, Megatron and Starscream continue their shouting match.

Eventually, Knock Out decides to ask the question of the hour.  "So . . . why exactly are you listening to this?"

Breakdown can only shrug.  "Somehow, I find the dysfunction of it all to be  . . . compelling."

"Oh."  What else is there to say to that?  But wait.  Knock Out comes to a nonchalant realization after waiting out the comedic beat.  It is only proper.  "You do realized that's how they . . ." he makes a  gesture with his hands, a gesture that is too obscene for television.   We will never know what exactly it was, but rest assured, it was lewd.

"Yup," says Breakdown without missing a beat.  Of all things, _this_ is what gets a reaction from Knock Out.  His mouth twists into a wide grin, and he wriggles around to get into optimal hearing position.

"Oooh, you're despicable."

**_\- Cut to Blackout -_ **

The opening continues as it always does, though the binge-watching viewer might find it best to just fast-forward through it.  They do, however, stop just in time for Soundwave and Starscream to present this week's title.

**Episode 3:  Adventures in Babysitting**

**_-Cut to Blackout-_ **

Chanting.  Dark, ominous – right away, it is clear that something is not quite right with it. 

_Monster, tyrant_

_So defiant_

_Forsake Primus_

_Now your life is Unicron's, Unicron's, Unicron's_

Despite that setup, the shop is brightly lit.  A large sign hanging from the ceiling by a pair of oversized horns, names this place as _Unicron Pizza_.  At the counter, two bots, both with an untouched pizza pie in front of them, stare straight ahead.  You don't know why, but they somehow seem untrustworthy.

"Hello," says the bot on the left, a gruff purple motorcycle with a pretty fabulous set of horns that is probably actually just a pair of Minicons holding hands or something. 

"Welcome to our shop," giggles the bot on the right, a manic purple mechanical spider bot.

"Our pizza is delicious," says the first.

"You might say, it's to _die_ for," says the second.

"Five out of five dentists agree that Unicron pizza is good for your sex life," says the first, an annoyed twitch in his eye.

"I can assure you that it's not made out of real people," the second chuckles, as if to intentionally upset the first.

"It has been proven to cure cosmic rust, whiplash, and spontaneous limb generation," the first tries, more emphatically.  Something glimmers behind his back, just out of the second bot's sight.

"Though there _is_ a possibility that anything we've said thus far is a lie, or will say subsequently.  Except for the fact that eating our pizza _will_ consume your soul.  That part is true."

"At least we can agree on something."

A sudden motion, a flash of light, and the next thing we know, the right hand of the second mech has been secured to the pizza in front of him by a knife shoved through his cold, metallic hand.  The first bot folds his arms, trying for all the world to look innocent.

"Sideways," he growls, still somehow managing to keep up the laughter.  "I know you didn't mean to do that on air."

"Do what, Tarantulas?  Clearly you've received a blessing from the Unmaker.  You should be grateful."

"Oh, I'll show _you_ grateful . . ."

From on high, some crude word art floats down to block out what very much looks like a high five being shared between our hosts.

[ ](http://s522.photobucket.com/user/keltzy/media/delicious.png.html)

You casually swear to yourself that you will never eat here.

\- **_Back to our regularly-scheduled programming-_**

 

The scene has not yet moved on from what last we saw.  However, we now are privy to what is happening _inside_ Megatron and Starscream's room.  How scandalous!

Starscream and Megatron stand on either side of the bed, faces flushed, plating flared, and tempers high.  They are arguing, but we already knew that.  What we didn't know, however, was that Soundwave was in here as well.  Watching.  Like a creeper.

"You can't force me into such an act of depravity!  I knew you were sick, Megatron, but this is too far!"  Starscream throws his arms into the air in disgust.

But Megatron is quick to retort.  "You live in my house, spend my money, plot to overthrow me, if not out-and-out assassinate me - and all I ask, Starscream, is one small favor."

"Make Soundwave do it," Starscream pleads.  "He loves this sort of thing."

Megatron does not so much as bat an eye.  "Soundwave is coming too.  But Optimus Prime will be there.  What will he think if I show up with Soundwave, and not my – well you?"

The comment is enough to throw Starscream off, if only for a moment.  But he comes back with a vengeance soon enough.  "Why do you care so much about what Optimus Prime thinks, anyway?!  It's always Optimus this, Optimus that!  Where's the Starscream in all this?"  It's a good point.

The two pause in their argument, the sound of hard-working fans revealing just how worked up they've become.  Of course, it is at this moment, while their eyes are locked on one another, while their vents blow hot air, while they pant slowly and deeply from their intakes, that they come to realize that they are not alone in the room.  As one unit, they turn to fix their eyes on the silent figure watching them, most likely recording every word for posterity.

Soundwave does not react to the sudden attention.  He keeps right on with what he's doing.  Starscream and Megatron simultaneously make a silent vow to pretend that Soundwave is not here.

"Right," Megatron coughs, trying so hard to regain the intensity the conversation had just held.  He fails.  "So anyway, you're accompanying us to the opera, and that's final."  He doesn't give Starscream the opportunity to reply, instead, turning for the door.

"Don't you walk out on me, Megatron!"

But when Megatron opens the door, he is surprised to find that, predictably, Knock Out and Breakdown have toppled through.

"Aw man," Breakdown groans.  It looks like they've been busted.  The situation is, of course, made worse by the presence of the laugh track, helpfully reminding us that this is supposed to be a funny scene.

Ever the schemer, Starscream decides to take advantage of the interruption.  "That's right!  Somebody has to look after the kids!"

"We can look after ourselves," Knock Out asserts with a sly smile.

Megatron stares between Breakdown and Knock Out, a twinkle of suspicion in his eye.  Then he turns to Starscream.  "Shockwave can watch them."

All three bots can scarcely believe their audial receptors.  "What?!" they scream in unison.  The reaction is so humorous that it warrants a repeat of the laugh track.

"But Dad," says Breakdown, "Shockwave is –"

" _What_ is he?" Megatron interrupts, looming as he is wont to do.

Breakdown backs down, more than a little terrified.  "Uh, just kind of creepy."

Knock Out elbows Breakdown in the side.  " _I_ think that's a great idea, Dad."

The concession is too easy.  The twinkle returns to Megatron's optic as he scrutinizes Knock Out.  It seems, however, that he is unable to find anything worth protesting.  "I agree," he says at last.  "It's settled then."  Before anyone can reply, Megatron storms off to go sulk somewhere.  Probably the roof or something.  But it's not enough that he's retreated.  Starscream has to have the last word.  He scurries to the bedroom door, leaning his head and shoulders out, and screaming to the heavens above.

" _FINE!_ "

And then, with as much drama as he can muster, he slams the door, leaving Breakdown and Knock Out alone in the hall.  At first, all they can do is sit in shocked silence, but soon enough Breakdown comes to terms with what just happened.

"What were you getting at back there?  Shockwave is a horrible babysitter."

"Yes, I know," Knock Out smiles.  "He'll shut himself up in his lab the whole time, which is why he's perfect."

"Come again?"

Knock Out rolls his eyes, but his smile is broad as ever.  "If Shockwave's not watching us . . ."  He trails off, waiting for Breakdown to fill in the blanks.

Breakdown's eyes light up as Knock Out's meaning dawns on him.  "Then we can do whatever we want!  Primus, this is the best idea we've had!  We could throw the bombin'-est party!  Stay up 'til midnight!  Eat peanut butter right out of the jar!"

"My thoughts exactly.  Well, my thoughts are better, but you get the idea.  We'll invite everyone.  There's this flashy little Lamborghini I've had my eye on.  It'll be a great opportunity to hook up."

The pair trade mischievous grins as the screen . . .

**_\- Fades to Black –_ **

_"Do you like action?"_

"You bet I do!" you say.

_"Do you like, VIOLENCE???"_

"Sure, I love violence," you reply, feeling stoked.

" _Do you like . . . **EXPLOSIONS?!?!?!?!**_ "

"Hell freakin' yeah!" you bellow, to the night sky.

" _Then you're in luck, because this show has exactly none of that!_ "

. . . What?  You are confused.

_"Watch **TAILGATE** Monday through Fridays at five, for a closer look at the simple things in life."_

Tailgate stands in front of the screen.  He may or may not be wearing cat ears.  He isn't doing anything interesting.  Just sort of . . . standing there.  Looking cute.  You don't quite get the point.

_"That's right, two hours of Tailgate, doing nothing!_ "

Tailgate yawns.  Probably.  It's hard to tell because he doesn't have a mouth.  You admit that it is kind of cute, if not a little pointless.

_"Who could say 'no' to that face?"_

Tailgate's eyes get all wibbly.  Maybe.  He's being framed from far away for some reason.  You debate changing the channel.

" ** _'Tailgate_.'  ** _So don't miss the Emmy-winning, critically acclaimed show of the year.  Watch it.  You know you want to."_

You think you will.

\- **_And now back to our regularly-scheduled programming -_**

We have returned to Megatron's house, which is set up for a fabulous party complete with mood-lighting, a dance floor, a disco ball, a fancy schmancy sound system that is NOT sentient, and a veritable buttload of illegally drunk, underage guests.  It's not a sitcom high school party without 'em.

We got guests everywhere!  No-name Autobot Dogfight and Jack Darby are playing Energon Pong.  Octane has highjacked the Engex keg, and is charging people drinking rights.  A fight has broken out between Steve the Vehicon and Hot Shot.  Hot _Rod_ hasn't left the bathroom in two hours.  Nobody knows what he's doing in there.  Astoria and Powerglide are making out on the couch.  It's weird, because Powerglide isn't even in high school.  And neither is Astoria.  Also, because Astoria is a human and Powerglide is a robot0.  Everyone is kind of uncomfortable about this and does their damndest to ignore them.  Anyway, Cliffjumper is in the kitchen, making an energon casserole.  Sideburn is hitting on him.  Sideswipe is defacing the family portraits.  Overall, it is a very successful party.

Now for characters we actually care about.

Knock Out is leaning against a door frame, aloof and sexy like.  He has chosen this location very strategically, for you see?  A certain yellow Lamborghini has chosen to stroll down this hallway at exactly this moment.

"So, yellow, huh?"  Knock Out says, in his most seductive voice.  "Bold.  I like that."

The Lamborghini, whose name is Sunstreaker stops in his tracks.  He never could resist a compliment on his paint job.  But he isn't going to fold that easily.  He decides to test the waters.  Without turning to face Knock Out, he says, "I dig bold."

Knock Out is un-dissuaded by the curt answer.  "I suppose you have the power to back that up, yeah?" He saunters closer to Sunstreaker.

"I do," Sunstreaker sneers.  His other weakness is compliments on his power.  "Why?  You wanna race?  'Cause you should know that I _never_ lose.  At anything."  Finally, he spares Knock Out a glance.

Knock Out offers his smoothest grin in return.  "That's what I love to hear."

Before Sunstreaker can respond, however, Knock Out catches Sideswipe defacing the precious family portraits!  That's bad as it is – enough so to leave Knock Out gaping in dim horror.  But the worst is yet to come.  Sideswipe has moved on to defacing the creepy, life-size marble statue of Megatron that sits in the hall.  Finally, Knock Out regains some semblance of conscious thought.

"Hey!  What the frag are you doing?!"

"I'm makin' art," Sideswipe replies, graffiti'ing ' _For_ _a good time call_ _1800-swag_ _._ '

Knock Out is not amused.  "Knock it off, or I'll have to knock you out."  It was a good pun.  Breakdown would have appreciated it.

But Sideswipe does not.  Instead of stopping, he moves on to draw a moustache on the statue, right over Megatron's intricately-carved upper lip.  Knock Out can only twitch in impotent rage.  That bot must pay for this.

In the front room, Breakdown is chatting up Cliffjumper, who is eating the energon ramen he made.  It looks delicious.  Cliffjumper will probably grow up to open a restaurant.  But this is not a cooking show.

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm surrounded by complete assholes," Breakdown gripes, burying his head in his hands.

"Aww, it can't be that bad," Cliffjumper comforts, slurping noodles held in one hand, and patting Breakdown with the other.  How is he talking with noodles in his mouth?  He is a robot.  That's how.

On cue, Knock out and Sideswipe come rolling into the room, hands at each others' throats, scratching up each others' paint jobs, trying to rip each others' faces off.

"Knock Out!" Breakdown cries out.

Having temporarily pinned Sideswipe, Knock Out rises to his feet and brushes himself off.  It is at this point that he sees his now scuffed finish.  He gasps, eyes wide and twitching.

"My finish!"  When he looks up once again, his face is in shadow, his eyes are on fire.  One gets the sense that Sideswipe is gonna die.  "You'll pay for this!"  In the background, one creepy blue sportscar named Sideburn is taking photos and wolf-whistling.  Everyone ignores him as well, because fuck Sideburn.

Knock Out pulls out a blaster and takes a shot as Sideswipe, who skillfully dodges, leaving it to instead hit the statue of Megatron.  Naturally, the statue shatters.

Silence falls over the room as every single soul stops what they're doing to take in the carnage.  At a time like this, there really is only one thing that even _can_ be said.  Knock Out has chosen to demonstrate.

"Scrap."

Meanwhile, we take a quick cut far, far away from here.  We're at the opera now, where Megatron, Starscream, and Soundwave stand in the luxurious entrance hall, all dolled up.  And in this case, 'dolled up,' means that all three have somehow managed to fit a black bowtie around their not-always-prominent necks.  It is very classy.  

But while Megatron and Soundwave seem to be excited about the upcoming performance, Starscream is griping, digging in his heels, and overall making a nuisance of himself. "You know, I hear _Age of Extinction_ is playing this weekend.  Wouldn't that make for a nice date?"

Megatron ignores him, his optics scanning the room for . . . something.   Poor Starscream is left with no choice but to press on or admit defeat.  He chooses the former.  "Or dinner.  Some people take their dates to a romantic energon lounge and cafe."

"Shut up Starscream.  I've found him."  Megatron's lips twist up in a malicious smile.  The screen pans over to reveal Optimus standing across the room with Bumblebee.  Instead of fancy black bowties, they have chosen to put on some stylish high heels.

Starscream follows the pan with his eyes, and he is not happy with what he sees.  "And y'know?  SOME people don't take their dates out to stalk their exes with them."

Soundwave takes the opportunity to fill the comedic beat with a laugh track.  However, this time, it is not appreciated.  Starscream and Megatron _both_ stare down Soundwave, who can only offer a helpless shrug in return.

From the other side of the room, Optimus seems to have spotted their lot, and saunters over to Team Megatron like a runway model, with Bumblebee in tow.  They are rocking these heels!

Megatron makes a point of beating him to a greeting.  "Optimus Prime!  Fancy meeting you here!" he proclaims with as much drama as he can muster.  One gets the feeling that _he_ should be the one everyone has come to see instead of some dumb opera.  "I didn't know you were a fan of the opera.  What a coincidence!  I too, am a fan of the opera!"

"Oh.  Hello, Megatron.  That is . . . surprising.  You'll have to forgive me for making assumptions, but I did not expect to run into you in a place like this, nor Starscream."

Starscream stiffens at the comment.  "Excuse me?  Are you saying that I, of all Cybertronians, am uncultured?  Coming from the mouth of an 18-wheeler, that is funny."

Megatron does not appreciate the taunt.  His eyes narrow and he growls a warning, "Starscream..."

But the warning is not heeded.  Starscream continues.  "And another thing.  If you think you can come in here and put the moves on my – oh scrap."  He throws his arms out dramatically, as though he's just had the biggest epiphany of his life.  An untrained optic might assume this gesture has been staged.

Soundwave gives him a laugh track anyway.

Optimus Prime, however, has a trained optic.  He knows that this move is 100% genuine.  Starscream would never lie!  But just because he knows this doesn't mean that he understands.  He tilts his head, pouting.  "Put the moves on your  . . . 'scrap?'"

Soundwave nonchalantly plays the laugh track again, though it somehow sounds less amused.  Is the guffaw-er missing from this mix?

Bumblebee, who is not at all fooled by Starscream's show, beeps in irritation.  Too bad nobody knows what he's saying.  Except for Starscream, but he's not telling.

"Fool," he gripes, before turning up the melodrama and throwing himself at Megatron.  "Oh Megatron, it's just awful!"

Megatron is suspicious, but not willing to rule out honesty just yet.  " What is it?"

"I've just remembered.  I left the stove on!  If I don't go home and turn it off now – why –" he hesitates, trying to think of a hasty cover story.  "Why, the whole house could burn down!"

The overhead lights flicker, signaling that the show is about to start.  Will Megatron allow Starscream to go home and turn off the stove?  Whatever decision he makes, he'll need to do soon.

"That won't be necessary, Starscream.  I'd hate for you to miss the show."  Starscream looks as though he will protest, but Megatron beats him to it.  "Soundwave, get in touch with Shockwave.  Tell _him_ to turn off the stove."

Soundwave deflates, playing an 'awwww' sound effect from his audio transmitters.  He'd really been looking forward to this.

"Don't argue, Soundwave," Megatron warns.  "If you want to catch the beginning of the show, then you'll just have to hurry, now won't you?"  He turns to Starscream, bowing before him like a perfect gentleman.  "After you."

With much effort, Starscream is able to croak out a, "You're too kind, Lord Megatron," before following Optimus's group up the stairs and to their seats.

We cut back to the house now, where most of the party has cleared out, save for the criminally guilty Sideswipe, and Cliffjumper, who lives next door.  The pair of Autobots, as well as our Decepticon brothers are staring over the shattered remains of Megatron's statue, horrified.

"Look what you've done, you idiot!" Knock Out cries, falling to his knees, and sifting through the rubble, as though doing so will repair the statue.

"What _I've_ done?" Sideswipe scoffs.  "I wasn't the one firing lasers in the house."

Breakdown, meanwhile, is lingering in the background, clenching and unclenching his fists in a panic.  "Megatron's gonna be so mad."

Knock Out is still on the ground, a manic look on his face and a chuckle in his voice.  "It's okay, we can fix this!"

From overhead, the laugh track plays, and Knock Out's mania turns to dread.  Simultaneously, four terrified teens look around, knowing that they are all dead if the keeper of the soundtrack knows what they've done.  Fortunately for them, the sound came, not from Soundwave, but from Ravage, watching them from the banister.

"Aww, scrap," says Knock Out.

"What's that?" Sideswipe asks.

"Ravage.  One of Soundwave's pets, or whatever he's calling them these days.  This is bad."  Knock Out crawls to his feet, mimicking Breakdown's gesture, and trying his hardest not to pace.

Sideswipe, however, being a virtual stranger, does not understand.  "Why?"

Knock Out's restless legs can no longer be kept in check.  He bounds over to Sideswipe, pointing an accusing finger under his chin.  "Because if he tells Soundwave what happened here, then Soundwave will tell Megatron, and then we're all fragged." 

Ravage was nice enough to allow for exposition, but his patience has run out.  He makes a break for it, and Knock Out has graduated to full on panic mode.

"Stop that cat!" he screams.

The chaos of the moment is short lived.  Breakdown comes after Ravage with a hammer, which the clever cat easily dodges.  However, he was not prepared for Cliffjumper to be in his way, nor was he prepared for that diminutive Autobot to swing his noodle pot.  Poor, dutiful Ravage is knocked out cold.

Now, it's Cliffjumper's turn to panic.  "Aww scrap.  I didn't sign up for this.  PETA's gonna be all over me for this!"

The stress is finally getting to Breakdown.  Everyone else is freaking out.  He may as well too.  He leans down, getting up in Cliffjumper's face.  " Well, you're in it.  Lord Megatron hates Autobots more than anything!  If he finds out that you were here, it's not just _our_ heads he'll be taking.   And I mean that literally.  He actually keeps the heads of his fallen enemies in his closet.  Creepy stuff."

"Yeah right," Sideswipe scoffs.  "He wouldn't _dare_ lay a hand on us.  Not while we're under Uncle Optimus's protection."

"So maybe he won't take your head," Knock Out reasons.  "He'll still tell your uncle that you were out partying with Decepticons."

Sideswipe and Cliffjumper exchange knowing looks.

"What do you need us to do?"  Sideswipe seems much more willing to help now.

With a satisfied smile, Knock Out explains.  "Soundwave should have two more Cassettes hiding around here at the moment – Rumble and Frenzy.  I need you guys to take 'em out.  Breakdown and I are gonna try and fix the statue."

"Shouldn't we tell Shockwave?"  Breakdown drops perhaps the most sensible suggestion anyone has brought up yet.

Knock Out, however, does not agree.  "No!  That's just as bad!"

"He could help us –" Breakdown protests.

Suddenly, the phone rings.  Before anyone can tell him not to, Cliffjumper answers it, to everyone's horror.  But Knock Out is fast.  He dives for Cliffjumper, steals the phone, and slams it back on the hook.

Back at the Opera, Soundwave is staring at his phone with a look of sullen confusion.  Megatron's words echo in his head.

_"Soundwave.  Get in touch with Shockwave.  Hurry."_

Soundwave has no choice.  No one answered the home phone, the kiddos aren't allowed to have cell phones (don't you know that's bad for a growing bot's brain module?) and Shockwave never answers his (does he even know where it is?)  With a disappointed sigh, Soundwave begins walking home.

Back at the house…

"What the frag are you doing?!"  Knock Out demands, shoving Cliffjumper away from the phone.

"I'm sorry.  I panicked."

"Go!" Knock Out snaps, shoving Cliffjumper away, clearly two minutes away from a meltdown.  "Just – just go find the Cassettes!"

"Right..." says Cliffjumper, backing away.  It would be best to leave.  And so he and Sideswipe take off, sneaking upstairs and away from the mad Decepticon.

In the meantime, Breakdown is on his knees with a handful of shards, the most defeated look on his face.  "How are we gonna fix this?"

Knock Out stares for a moment, nonplussed.  But then, his eyes light up.  An idea has struck him.  "Get the toothpaste."

**_-Fades to Black-_ **

"Hello mechs, and femmes, and Earthlings too, I suppose.  My name is Officer Prowl, and I am here to talk to you about a very important subject.  That's right.  This, right here, in this tiny vial that I am holding, is Dark Energon.  One hit of this sugar will get you so high, you'll think you're on the moon.  The power!  The symbiosis!  The necromancy!!

"'But Officer Prowl,' you say.  'That sounds like a great time!'

"Well guess what, you scum-licking gutter-slumming rust buckets in training?!  It only takes one hit.  _One_ hit, and your soul is Unicron's.  And that . . . is bad.  You’ll be a zombie puppet whose plating gets replaced with tacky rocks, forced to wander immortal, the expanse of the universe, because you have been condemned to never find your eternal rest.  Also, your eyes will skew when you get angry, and everyone will laugh at how ridiculous you look.  It's very embarrassing.

"Sex.  Drugs.  Rock n' Roll.  This will all happen to you.  And worse yet, Dark Energon is a gateway to other things, like Hacky Sack, and staying up past your bedtime.

"My point is, Dark Energon is bad, m'kay?  Don't do it.  Listen to me, Prowl – a completely legitimate police officer, and definitely not an actor.  Dark Energon: not even once."

This has been . . . a public service announcement.

\- **_And now back to our regularly-scheduled programming -_**

Back at the opera, the show is on.  Starscream appears to be enjoying himself, but Megatron looks tense.  He drums his fingers on the side of his seat, eyes half shuttered; this is clearly not his jam.  He motions for a server to bring him a drink.

"Lord Megatron?" Starscream asks, at last fed up with the constant interruption.

Megatron buries his face in his hands.  "Primus, this is awful.  What was I thinking?"

"Well, we could ditch?  Catch the end of that movie?"  Starscream smiles, hopefully.  He's a bot with high tastes, raised in a wealthy family.  He can appreciate fine art well enough, but he still prefers senseless action and explosions targeted at the lowest common denominator.

But Megatron can't have that.  "No!" he snaps, bolting upright and knocking his drink to the floor.   "Optimus is sitting right over there.  If we leave, then he will see, and he will know that I was lying about liking the opera, and he will think less of me."

 "You know," Starscream retorts,  "I get the feeling that he doesn't think very highly of you to begin with."

"Enough!  I'll hear no more from you," he flags down the poor usher once again.  "Waiter – I need something stronger!"

Starscream can only roll his eyes.

Back at the house, Cliffjumper and Sideswipe have found themselves in the upstairs hallway on the hunt for Minicons.  They find Knock Out's room first, and open the door, only to, quite naturally, find a shrine to himself in there.  Breakdown's room is plain and boring.  One might get the sense that he is the unloved child here.  Next is Soundwave's room (with a 'Keep Out' sign on the door).  It is locked.  Megatron and Starscream's room is the last one on their journey.  Inside, they find Rumble and Frenzy passed out drunk on the bed.  Bingo!

Cliffjumper and Sideswipe exchange quick looks before Sideswipe pulls out the marker.

We cut to downstairs before we have a chance to see what sort of dastardly plans Sideswipe has up his subspace.  Instead, we get to see just what Knock Out has accomplished with all that toothpaste.

The answer?  A bunch of broken shards now covered in toothpaste and smelling minty-fresh.

"Well, that didn't work," he says.

Breakdown holds up a jar of peanut butter, a serious look in his eye.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Knock Out groans.  "Get me SUPER GLUE, you moron!"

Breakdown straightens up, clutching the peanut butter close to his chest.  "No need to be rude," he sniffs, before storming out, just in time to miss Cliffjumper and Sideswipe strolling down the stairs.

"Mission accomplished."  Sideswipe accompanies his boast with a thumbs up.

"Good," says Knock Out.  "That's what I like to hear.  Breakdown, have you found the super glue?"

Breakdown returns, looking crestfallen.  "Well yeah, but . . ." He holds up a tiny tube of glue, which barely fits on the tip of his finger.  "I don't think we have enough."

"Then we'll get more," Knock Out insists, desperate.

"I think hiding the fact that we bought 800 tubes of super glue would be harder than hiding the broken statue.  Come one, Knock Out.  Let's just get Shockwave."

"We're not getting Shockwave.  Now go."  He gestures, perhaps a bit too fiercely towards the door.  "We need more glue!"

"Yeah yeah," sighs Breakdown.

Jump cut to a shot of the finished statue, with eight hundred empty tubes of super glue strewn about at its feet.

Knock Out smiles, though it somehow seems forced.  "There, see?  Good as new!"  He even laughs, to keep up the charade, but of course, the statue picks that exact moment to collapse, shattering into even smaller pieces.  Knock Out, a broken ~~man~~ bot, collapses to the ground in tears. 

"Primus, why?!"

Cliffjumper, ever the sage, stands by in the background, a disinterested look on his face.  "Y'know, in my experience, super glue isn't really all that good at holding things together."

 By this point, Knock Out has been reduced to weak gurgling.  Breakdown taps him on the shoulder.

"So, about telling Shockwave?"

_That_ is all it takes to pull Knock Out from his stupor.  He jerks to his feet, fire in his eyes, and taps an accusing finger right in the center of Breakdown's massive robo-boob.  He hisses each word slowly, deliberately.

"We're not.  Telling."

And then Sideswipe interrupts.  "Y'know, Shockwave's supposed to be your babysitter, right?  I was just thinking, if Megatron found out about this party, wouldn't he be in just as much trouble as the rest of us?  It's in his best interest to keep everything hush-hush, and if there's one thing I know about Shockwave, it's that he's a pretty logical guy, yeah?"

Knock Out looks as though he wants to protest, but he cannot find any good criticism for Sideswipe's plan.  "Fine," he concedes.  "We'll tell Shockwave."

"Tell me what?"  Like a ghost, Shockwave has appeared out of nowhere.  If Soundwave were here, he would consider this the perfect opportunity for some canned laughter.  But Soundwave is not here, so instead, all we get are startled cries as four teenage bots leap away.

"It was Breakdown's idea!" Knock Out cries out, once he has gathered enough wits for words. 

Breakdown responds with an offended, "Hey!"

Shockwave pays no mind to the exchange.  Instead, he looks around at the mess that is the house – toppled furniture, discarded engex cubes, food and trash and unsightly stains, defaced portraits, and of course, the shattered remains of Megatron's prized statue.  His finials twitch in remote frustration.

"That was a present from the Constructicons.  Megatron will be most displeased."

Knock Out's already white face turns three shades paler, but he has not given up yet.  Like a man at the end of his rope, he squeaks, "But at ALL, of us, yeah?"

"I suppose," Shockwave concedes.  He looks up from the mess on the floor, noticing Cliffjumper and Sideswipe for the first time.  "Autobots?" 

Sideswipe, ever the frat boy, puffs up his chest and bounds forwards and back, like a boxer standing in hot lava.  "What of it?"

Either Shockwave is unnerved by the silly display, or he doesn't particularly care about Sideswipe's posturing.  Regardless of the reason, he returns his attention to the remains of the statue.  "You should leave.  Megatron's opera will be ending soon.  Your presence will only complicate matters."

Sideswipe looks as though he wants to protest, but then he thinks better of it.  "Fine by me.  Sideswipe, out."  He backs from the room, flashing twin peace signs.  Cliffjumper, however, is less enthusiastic in his departure.

"Um . . . yeah.  Later."  He too, joins his cousin in the land of the no longer on-screen.

Now Shockwave, Knock Out, and Breakdown are alone together.  Shockwave turns to the kids, fixing a blank, red optic on their trembling forms.  Knock Out, however, has no time to be intimidated.

"Why did you do that!?" he demands.  "If Megatron's coming home soon, then there's no way we can get this all cleaned up in time!"

"It shall not be a problem," Shockwave reassures.  "The two of you will focus on the mess out there."  He motions at the rest of the living room with his cannon arm.  Once sufficiently convinced that they've understood his instruction, he removes his cannon and backpack, flips a switch, and passes the whole array to Knock Out.  Rest assured, Shockwave looks really silly without his backpack, not that the kids are dumb enough to comment on it.  "Here, use this"

"What the scrap?" Knock Out's eyes are wide, aghast.  But Shockwave is quick to explain.

"Think of it as a high-powered vacuum cleaner.  Now go.  I'll take care of things here."

**- _Jump cut to the front door-_**

Megatron bursts through the door in a drunken stupor, with Starscream fussing about behind him.  The moment the door opens, Megatron yells out to the house in a manner reminiscent of Ricky Ricardo, "You have failed me yet again, Starscream!"

"I'm right here," Starscream gripes.  "You don't have to  yell."

Megatron whirls on Starscream, drunk and angry and wobbling unsteadily on his massive feet.  He overshoots on the movement, and ends up crashing face-first into the door.  But he makes a spectacular recovery, even if Starscream is very unimpressed with it all.

"You had ONE job!" he cries.  "How did you fuck it up so spectacularly?"

Starscream folds his arms and narrows his eyes.  "Oh, don't pin this on me!  YOU'RE the one that got Mega-drunk and started screaming taunts at Optimus Prime in the middle of _Dove Sono I Bei Momenti!_ What did you think was going to happen?!"

"Well," Megatron scoffs, gesticulating wildly with his index finger.  "I can tell you that I _didn't_ think he'd start singing an aria right then and there to rebuff me.  And I _certainly_ didn't expect little Bumblebee of all people to shoot me in the face.  We're never going to be able to show our faces at that opera house again!"  He pauses for a moment, rage fading to a small, self-satisfied laugh.  "Heheh, thank Primus."

Starscream allows himself a teensy weensy chuckle of his own, but it doesn't take him long to notice that something is amiss.  "Wait . . . Where are the kids?"

Knock Out and Breakdown trudge sullenly down the stairs, looking a bit worse for the wear, heads hung, like a puppy dog who knows it's done a bad thing.

"What happened to _you_?" Starscream sneers.

Before they have a chance to answer, however, Megatron stomps into the living room, looking around with a hand on his brow, as though that will somehow improve his vision, or at least block out the overhead light.  Why is it so damn bright in here?  Didn't they consider that he might be coming home completely and utterly trashed?  Sooo inconsiderate!

But more importantly . . .

"Hey, wait a minute.  Something seems different here."

Knock Out and Breakdown nervously eye one another.

"What could it be?"  Megatron continues.  He begins inspecting the house, passing right over the spotless floor, the pristine furniture, the lack of clutter or vomit or any other sign that a wild teen party had occurred in this room less than an hour ago.  He stops right in front of the statue, or more specifically, where the statue had been standing earlier that evening.  Much to Breakdown and Knock Out's horror, it is not there.

Finally fed up with the playing around, Starscream decides it's time to spill the beans.  "It's your statue, you drunken buffoon."

In tandem, Knock Out and Breakdown's eyes widen to the size of giant robot-sized dinner plates.  They appear very much the classic image of the 'deer in headlights.'

But the impending doom never comes.  Instead, Megatron smiles, a wide, toothy smile.  "Ah yes!  Someone has polished it for me!"

"Wait, what?"  Knock Out is too baffled to move.   But Starscream isn't particularly impressed.

"Megatron, you idiot.  THAT is not your statue!"

At last, the reverie wears off.  Breakdown and Knock Out peer around Megatron to see just what the two are talking about.  What they find, standing on the pedestal that once held a life-sized replica of Megatron in all of his glory, is a tiny – one might say, _toy-sized_ replica of Megatron, standing in the best approximation of the statue's pose it's tiny arms can muster with their limited articulation.

"Nonsense!" Megatron scoffs.  "It looks just like me."

"Y-yeah!"Knock Out agrees.  "That is the spittin' image of our Megatron!"

Starscream narrows his eyes and leans over Knock Out and Breakdown, a threat in his presence.  "Do you take me for a fool?"

Poor Breakdown is trembling from the stress as he moves to explain.  "The truth is –"

But Starscream doesn't get to hear what the truth is, for at that moment, Shockwave comes to the rescue.  "I shrank it."

As one, everyone in the room turns to gape at their one-eyed mad scientist.

"You what?" says Megatron, too dumbfounded to be angry.

"I thought it was more efficient this way.  It's minimization has freed up a lot of space."

Megatron nods in agreement.  "Ah, well.  Good.  Your innovations are appreciated, Shockwave."  He pats his brother on the shoulder, hard enough to make Shockwave stumble.

"You can't be serious."  Starscream is displeased by this turn of events.

"Shut _up_ , Starscream."  Megatron stomps past Starscream, towards the stairs.  "Now, I've had a long, and frankly miserable day.  It is bedtime."  His heavy footsteps can be heard as he stumbles about off-screen.  Once he's out of earshot, Starscream rounds on the others.

"I don't know what you did, but you're lucky he came home too drunk to notice."

From off-screen, we are greeted with one house-shaking yell.  "STARSCREAM!"

"Ugh, what now?" Starscream groans, before heading for the stairs.  "Coming!"  He exits, giving Breakdown and Knock Out their first real chance to drop their cover and examine what is clearly a toy of Megatron.

"What did you do?" Knock Out wonders, awe-struck by the tiny detail work on the figurine.  "That thing was irreparable.  Did you like, shrink ray it?"

"I did not," Shockwave corrects.  "The statue was, as you said, irreparable.  I have since disposed of it."

"Then what's this?" Breakdown asks, reaching out to touch the soft, shiny plastic.  Knock Out swats his hand away. 

Shockwave ignores the both of them.  "I've been working on the development of a series of miniature Cybertronians to market to the children of Earth.  This is still a prototype, but I imagine the line will be quite lucrative.  They even transform."

"What?" asks Knock Out, mouth agape.  Shockwave's finials twitch, and he turns away, nervous. 

"Anyway, I should not have to tell you, but tonight is an event to be strictly forgotten about.  You will not tell Megatron, you will not tell Starscream, and you will CERTAINLY not tell Soundwave."

"Of course!" says Knock Out, while Breakdown adds a, "Yes sir!"

Meanwhile in Megatron's room, Megatron and Starscream stare, baffled, at Rumble and Frenzy, who have been tied together, still unconscious.  Graffiti covers both of them, as well as the bedroom walls.  One inscription in particular, written right above the bed's headboard, reads 'Autobots rule, Decepticons drool!   – SS'

"Lord Megatron . . . ?" Starscream ventures, not quite able to read Megatron's stiff posture, least of all when all he can see is Megatron's backside.

"Do you think this funny, Starscream?"

"Come again?"

"I'm not an idiot, Starscream."  He whirls around, clearly furious, though Starscream remains unimpressed.  "'S.S.?' 'Star-Scream.'"

Starscream folds his arms, incredulous.  "And why would I have written such a thing?"

"I don't know, maybe because you are a traitor?"

"That's a laugh!" Starscream cackles.  "Who's betraying whom, now?  Optimus?  Optimus who?"

The camera pans out to the sounds of their arguing.

-END CREDITS-

_-Written by: Darksidekelz and the Mysterious Stranger_

_-Characters played by:  A flock of seagulls in silly hats_

_-Special thanks to: Whoever designed Tarantulas's glorious weapon._

Ah yes, end of the episode, everything is sorted out, all the loose ends are patched up.  But wait.  Where did Soundwave go?

As it turns out, it is time for us to find out.  He is walking home.  Alone.  In the dark.  It is raining.  He may or may not be lost.

  He could have been enjoying a lovely musical cornucopia right about now, but nope!  Starscream had to whine, and Megatron had to send HIM to check up on the house, and Shockwave couldn't answer his damn phone, and cabs don't stop when you're a force of nature, and also when you don't have a face.  Needless to say, he is not a very happy mech right now.

A car pulls up beside him and stops.  How odd.  Given his current luck, it is probably some punk kids here to mock him.  But then?  Then the tinted windows roll down, just enough to reveal a tiny human, obscured by a visor – in fact, there are two tiny humans.  And Soundwave knows these humans well!  They are the face of his favorite musical group!!  He can hardly believe it!!!

The closest human reaches through the window, and places a small data pad into Soundwave's much larger hands.  On its display, slightly warped by the falling rain, is a message.

_We're sorry.  We were wrong.  You are great.  Keep making music._

The human then nods, gives him a thumbs up, rolls up the window, and drives off.

There are many reactions one could have to receiving such a compliment from one's favorite band.  But Soundwave – taciturn and silent, has only one thing to say, rather, display on his own visor, even though his heroes have long since driven off, even though he is alone and has no one to display it for.

"<3"


	4. Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Starscream's big mouth, the Decepticons have converted their home into a haunted house, just in time for Halloween!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days late, but it's still here! Yay!

It is a brisk, Autumn day at the Autobot house – a house nearly identical to the Decepticon house, but it is red where the Decepticon house is purple.  Duh!  On the deck of this very familiar house, Starscream and Bumblebee are engaged in a deep and meaningful conversation.  Bumblebee is beeping incessantly, and Starscream, seeming to understand, responds in Earth human English, for our convenience.

"Human Halloween?" he says.  "What's that?"

"Beep beep"

"Sounds stupid."  Starscream takes a sip of his energon, to make this conversation appear all the more dignified.  Bumblebee beeps his disdain. 

"Come again?"

It is with a smug look in his creepy Autobot eyes, that Bumblebee replies.  "Beep beep beepity beep!"

Starscream narrows his own.  "Oh, now don't you take that tone of voice with me."

"Beep," Bumblebee asserts.

Starscream shoots to his feet, throwing his cube to the ground, where it shatters.  He ignores Bumblebee's glare, and spits back, "Oh yeah?  You think you're something special?  You got nothing on us!  We're doing a – a – a – what do you call it?  That spooky house thing you mentioned?"

Bumblebee offers an incredulous _beep_.

"Yeah!" asserts Starscream.  "We're doing a haunted house this year.  And not just any haunted house, but the haunted house to end all haunted houses!  You could totally witness greatness inspired if you didn't, y'know, have plans already."

"Beep beep."

"Yeah, that's too bad . . ." Starscream sighs, then upon actually taking in Bumblebee's words, performs a delightful double-take.  "Wait.  What was that?"

"Beep."

"Oh.  Uh, you don't have plans?"  He looks suddenly nervous as Bumblebee confirms his fears.  "Oh yes.  Well then, do come on by.  We'd love to have you . . ."

With a smug grin and a triumphant flick of his door wings, Bumblebee beeps, then saunters back inside for more snacks, leaving Starscream on the deck to steep in his horror.

"Oh fuck."

**_-Cut to Blackout-_ **

There is nothing new about this opening segment, though you are beginning to recognize a few of the clips from previous episodes.  Incidentally, you're starting to realize that there is even a clip or two that implies a Halloween special.  And considering that cold open, and the current (somewhat belated) date . . .

You are tentatively excited as Starscream and Soundwave present this week's title.

**Episode 4:  Unmasked**

- ** _Cut to Blackout-_**

"The moon is lovely tonight.  It bathes the land below in its full, violet light.  Stare into its hypnotizing beauty.  Closer.  _Closer_.  Can you see it?  Can you see the life it begets?  The unlife?  Thousands – millions of Insecticons, long-dead, crawling over its surface – a swarm of the undead.  Can you hear their groans, defying the laws of time and space, crossing the void to reach you?  To whisper in your ear?

_"'Hungry.  We're so hungry.'_

_"_ Do you hear them?  They're calling for you.  You look at the moon, you look at its full, violet light, and you see them.  And you know, that someday, they will find a way out of their Primus-forsaken prison.  Someday, they will find you, and when that day comes, they will feast.  But for now, child of the light, take solace in the fact that they are far, far away.  Take comfort in the fact that you are safe for another day.

". . .

"Or are you?

" _Fragrance du Airachnid._ "

- ** _Back to our Regularly-Scheduled Programming-_**

The live studio audience applauds as Megatron sits in his study, looking over paperwork, or whatever.  It seems weird and intrusive to be applauding someone in such a situation, but such is the will of the studio.

Starscream enters, wings drooping, steps slow, fingers tapping together in a nervous beat.  "Lord Megatron . . ." he says, only to be ignored.  He clears his throat, and tries again, louder this time.  "Lord Megatron."

"I don't have time for your trivial shenanigans right now, Starscream.  Can't you see that I'm busy?" Megatron answers, without looking up.

"Ah  yes.  Yes, I do see that."

"So?  Take the hint, and frag off."

"Well, I would, but," he advances further into the room, until he's seated on the edge of the desk.  Megatron admirably continues to ignore him.  "We have a bit of a . . . situation on our hands."

At last, Megatron slams his data pad on the desk, and glares up at Starscream.  "What?"

With attention fully on him, Starscream relaxes, seating himself more fully on the desk.  "So I was out talking with Bumblebee."

"Why?"

"I –" Starscream interrupts himself, for the first time, staring down into Megatron's angry eyes.  "Come again?"

"Why were you fraternizing with the enemy?  I have forbidden it," Megatron explains, with the weary air of one who had had this conversation many times before.

Starscream's wings twitch, as though he's annoyed at being told this again.  Or perhaps Megatron has only just made up this rule, and Starscream is irritated at being expected to read his mind.  Either way, he is displeased.  "If you MUST know, I was spying," he admits, before waving it off.  "But that's not important right now."

"Spying?" Megatron cocks his head.  "What for?"

"Megatron –"  Starscream looks very much like he wants to change the subject.

"Because if you think that –"

"The Autobots are coming to visit us on the human holiday of Halloween," Starscream spits out before Megatron can finish.

Megatron is so stunned, it takes him a moment to find the words to say.  ". . . What?"

"And," Starscream continues, "I MAY have promised them the 'Haunted House to end all haunted houses.'"

Megatron, still flabbergasted, stammers out, "You did what?"

"I was just trying to one-up the Autobots.  I wasn't expecting them to actually want to come."

Finally, Megatron has come to his senses.  He shoots up from his seat, looming over Starscream with a barely-contained rage.  "Do you realize what you've done?"

"Yes," Starscream says, unimpressed.  "It has occurred to me."

"I can't have Optimus show up here expecting something brilliant only to be let down.  He'll think me incapable of delivering!  And I refuse to be a disappointment."  He whirls around to stare out his window, which, of course, overlooks the Autobot house.  "Congratulations, Starscream.  We'll be seeing this scheme of yours through to the end."

Starscream, still unimpressed, glances up from polishing his claws.  "And how do you expect us to do that?"

Megatron rubs his chin, ponderously.  "We'll need a specialist."

One jumpcut later:

Shockwave's lab is a horrifying, nasty place, full of bad lighting and mysterious dripping liquids and . . . _things_ in test tubes that can't quite be seen.  Starscream is eyeballing it all nervously, his wings drooping.  Megatron is speaking with Shockwave by a gurney.

"And so I trust you, Shockwave, with the task of transforming our house into the spookiest, spoopiest night of fright you can muster up in three days' time.  Do not disappoint me.  I want Optimus in tears."

"Tears may be difficult for such an unflappable character, but I shall see what I can do."

"Good."  Megatron turns on his heel and leaves, with Starscream following nervously behind.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he says.

"Shockwave is the creepiest 'Con I know," Megatron explains.  "He'll come through."

Starscream, however, doesn't seem quite at ease.  "That's what I'm afraid of."

- ** _Cut to Blackout-_**

"Ah, Halloween," says Tarn.  "The night of frights.  The season of spookiness . . . Repulsive organic tradition!" he spits.

"Ew," says Helex, looking sadly at his now spit-covered foot.

" _How did he get it past the mask_?"  Vos stares, wide-eyed.

"I call upon all you Decepticons – forsake these blasphemous festivities!  They are profane, and should not be encouraged."

"Aw shit," says Tesarus, who is hiding beneath a giant white sheet, with holes cut in the eyes.  "I heard that wrong."  He throws off the sheet, which lands on a disgruntled Kaon.  "'Should _not_.'  Ya gotta enunciate, man."

Tarn is a professional bot, and continues to ignore the complaints of those behind him.  "Besides, what is scarier than the DJD?"  He laughs, deeply, sonorously, and on cue, a slew of maniacal cackles rise up from behind him, sending the camera up, up to the ominous full moon, while elegant Cybertronian characters appear on the screen.

_October 31st, 7pm, Unicron Pizza: SUPER SECRET MEETING!!  Any Decepticon to not show, shall be deemed an enemy to the cause.  Be there._

_- **And now back to our regularly-scheduled Programming-**_

It is Halloween night, and the house has been thoroughly spoopified by Shockwave.  The walls have been painted black, spattered in some kind of glowing, violet liquid that you're fairly convinced is actual energon.  When all is silent, you can hear a faint skittering that is indistinguishable from the sound of scraplets, and an ominous rumble has become one with the soundtrack.  Also, there are fake spider webs.  Can't have Halloween without fake spider webs.

Megatron stands in the dark entrance hall, talking with Shockwave, who is dressed as a _Horrible_ doctor.

"You've really outdone yourself, Shockwave.  Adding this ancient entrance hall was a nice touch.  The Autobots are certain to be thoroughly creeped out."

"I do strive for excellence, Lord Megatron."

Before one can wonder why exactly Megatron's brother refers to him as 'Lord,' Starscream struts in, dressed up in a black and white paintjob, and crazy glam metal hair.  He looks kind of like a member of Kiss, if said member of Kiss was also an F-22 Raptor.

"Dear Primus, what is that?"

"It's my costume!" Starscream scoffs.  "Where's yours?"

"I'm IN costume, you dolt."

The assertion gives Starscream pause, and he tilts his head, scrutinizing Megatron more fully.  "Oh?  As what?"

Before Megatron can answer, Breakdown walks in wearing the bottom half of a horse costume, stretched to the breaking point.  Both Megatron and Starscream have no choice but to stare in confused horror.

"What are YOU supposed to be?" says Megatron.

With a giddy smile, Breakdown explains.  "I'm half-a-horse.  Knock Out's gonna be the other half."

"Do you mean to tell me that you willingly agreed to have your helm up Knock Out's aft all night?" Starscream says, folding his arms and raising an optic ridge.

Breakdown pauses as Starscream's words slowly sink in.  "Wow, I didn't think this one through at all."

Right on cue, the laugh track sounds out, simultaneously welcoming Knock Out, who has somehow managed to get a gorgeous, periwinkle evening gown and blonde wig on over his kibble.

"Behold," he proclaims, "for I am the mother of dragons!"

While he has clearly put a lot of work into this gorgeous costume that he is totally rocking, Breakdown is less than pleased.  "What the frag, Knock Out?  What happened to the horse?  Now I look like an idiot!"

Knock Out stares Breakdown up and down, suppressing a snort as he does so.  "Wait, you actually did it?  I was _joking,_ Breakdown.  _Everyone_ does the half-a-horse joke.  And it always ends poorly.  But wow, you – you actually did it.  Well then."  Much to his credit, he does not laugh, but that doesn't stop Breakdown from screaming and throwing his arms into the air in a rage.

At this point, Soundwave makes his appearance, wearing a very accurately-crafted mask of Megatron himself.  Surrounding him are his Cassettes, who are dressed as a tiny, human basketball team.  Megatron's eyes light up when he sees them.

"Oh good.  I was just wondering where I could find a mirror!"  He bounds over to Soundwave, and begins admiring his own visage.  A lesser mech would find this very uncomfortable, but Soundwave is used to such shenanigans.

"What's all this?" Starscream asks, approaching from behind.

"Soundwave's taking us trick-or-treating!" Rumble explains, drawing Megatron's attention downward.

"Soundwave?"

At the sound of his name, Soundwave lifts the mask to reveal his own face.  Megatron throws up his arms in an over the top display of surprise, but is quick to calm down.  He claps Soundwave on the shoulder with a smile.

"Well, color me surprised.  Good costume, Soundwave.  It looks so real."

Soundwave nods his agreement.

Apropos of nothing, Shockwave speaks up, as though he's already grown tired of this game, and wants it to end as quickly as possible.  "It is almost time for the Autobots to arrive.  I shall go get into position."  He leaves, and within seconds, there is a knock at the door.  Nobody budges.

"Somebody answer that," Megatron demands.  "Somebody who isn't me."

Hesitantly, Breakdown breaks down and answers the door.  "Uh, hi guys," he says, his back to the camera, conveniently obscuring their guests.  But Megatron is unsatisfied with his delivery.

"No, not like that, you fool!  You've got to be scary!  Try again."

Breakdown takes the criticism to heart.  This time, he stands up tall and deepens his voice, before at last saying, "Hi guys."

Megatron buries his face in a hand.  "I'm surrounded by idiots.  Just let them in already!"

Breakdown steps aside to allow Optimus, Bumblebee, Jazz, Prowl, and Arcee to enter, dressed as Fred, Scooby Doo, Daphne, Velma, and Shaggy respectively.

"Jinkies," says Knock Out, aghast.  Breakdown is quick to join him in mutual, biting surprise.

"They co-ordinate their Halloween costumes.  I wonder what it must be like to live in a family wherein every single bot can commit to the group costume without ditching or anything. "

Optimus Prime steps towards Megatron, a hesitant smile on his face.  "Megatron," he greets, warmly despite their past altercations.  "You've met Bumblebee, and my daughter, Arcee.  This is my younger brother, Jazz, and my brother-in-law, Prowl, chief of police."

"I dig what you done with the place," says Jazz, throwing his hands behind his head, and gazing up towards the ceiling.  There seem to be numerous tubes and wires, some still dripping with fluids, dangling from the black pit above.  "They almost look real."

"This is a waste of time," Prowl says through gritted teeth.  Megatron chooses to acknowledge only the former – the one who _appreciates_ his hard work!

"Ah yes," he says, patting Jazz on the shoulder.  "Welcome.  And prepare to be wowed."

Suddenly, there is another knock at the door, much to everyone's surprise.  Megatron narrows his eyes.  "Who the devil could that be?  I didn't invite anyone else."

This time, when Breakdown opens the door with a hilariously inept evil greeting, a group of five little humans dressed in red Starfleet regulation uniforms struts through the door, with Elvis Presley quick on their heels.

"What's all this?" Megatron asks, aghast.  Elvis is the one to explain.

"We're here for the haunted house.  Uh-huh-huh."  It's not a very good impression.  All present groan in second-hand embarrassment, save for Megatron who is too busy being inhospitable.

"This is a private event," he says.  But then, dear, sweet Optimus Prime comes forward, a smile on his face which looks absolutely ridiculous when paired with his floofy blond wig and ascot. 

"Won't it be merrier with more participants?"

Megatron never _could_ refuse Optimus anything.  "Fine," he spits.  "But no one else.    This is already enough of a zoo as it is.  Now, is everybody ready?"

"Can I change my –"

"Good," says Megatron, ignoring Breakdown's plea for attention.  "Let's begin."

They journey down the long corridor.  It is very spooky.  Lights flicker.  Screams and moans can be heard in the distance.  A black cat leaps out at Breakdown.  Startled, Breakdown jumps, bumping into Knock Out, who glares and tosses his exquisitely-styled curls over his shoulder.

Nothing too exciting happens as they make their way down the entrance corridor.  Once they leave it, however, and enter the den, the distant hum of violins cuts away, leaving a silent, eerie room.  All of the furniture has been upturned, if not torn apart, and bloody robot footprints cover the floor.

"This is horrible," breathes Megatron, already calculating the cost of cleaning up this dump.  But not _everyone_ has the same reaction.

"Man, I gotta pee," says the first of the Redshirts.  Megatron zeroes in on the little fleshbag, murder in his optics.

"Not in my house you don't," he growls.

"But dude –"  The Redshirt tries to protest, but Megatron is having none of it.

"Get out!"

Redshirt number one turns back the way they came, dejected.  The others watch him depart, not particularly mourning his loss.  Knock Out is even wearing an amused smile.

"It begins," he says.

"Come again?" Arcee replies, her gaze growing suspicious.

Knock Out laughs and tosses his curls once more.  "Let's just say – he was never seen again."

"Uh-huh . . ."  Arcee seems less amused by the predicament than Knock Out does, but she says no more.  The party is already on the move to the next room.  The air grows heavy, filled with the stench of rotting robot corpses. 

"Well, _this_ is unnerving," says Prowl

"These things are legit," Jazz admires.

The remarks are punctuated by an eerie moan from the hallway behind them, as well as a steady shuffle.  Everyone unanimously decides to ignore that.  It's probably just the exquisite soundtrack anyway.  Starscream takes the opportunity to sidle up to Bumblebee, a smug smile on his face.

"So Bumblebee, are you scared yet?"

Bumblebee shrugs.  Jazz steps in to translate for the rest of us.

"Bee's right.  Place got so hyped up, I was expectin' more 'n this."

Jazz may be unimpressed, but for the bots that _actually_ live here, it's another story.  Breakdown glances this way and that around the room, as though searching for something.  When it seems he cannot find it, he taps Knock Out on the shoulder.  Knock Out _definitely_ isn't alarmed by this – he doesn't even jump or let out a surprised squawk or anything.

_"What?!"_ he hisses.

"This _is_ still our house, right?  'Cause I have no idea where we are."

"It's gotta be," Knock Out shrugs, but he doesn't sound too optimistic.  The shared moment of worry, however, is interrupted by a flat cry of 'Jinkies' from Prowl's direction.

Starscream narrows his eyes.  "Did you really just say...?"

Prowl ignores the cute remark, interrupting Starscream in full-on mission mode.  "That corpse over there," he points at one of the bodies, a human body in a red Starfleet regulation uniform, sprawled across a sofa, "is an actual corpse."  He shuffles closer to investigate.

Jazz watches him work over his shoulder.  "Ain't this the guy from earlier?"

"That's preposterous!" Starscream says, rolling his eyes.  "He was behind us.  How on Cybertron could he have gotten all the way up here?  Dead, no less."

Knock Out, smugly points out, "I told you this would happen."

Nobody cares.  They've got bigger things to worry about.  And Optimus Prime, as leader of the Autobots and also Mystery Inc., has taken it upon himself to lead the charge.

"Well gang, it looks like –"

"Don't say it," Megatron warns.

"We've got a mystery on our hands."

Megatron stifles a groan.  It was hard being the smartest one in the room sometimes.  "Please.  This is a haunted house.  He's probably just part of the show.  He clearly used a secret passage to get up here.  Clever."  His statement is punctuated by further moaning in the distance.

"Uh, dad?"

"Shut up, Breakdown."

"Is that part of the show too?"  Breakdown points, and the camera follows, to the corridor, where a zombie bot is trudging onto the scene, moaning all the while.  At last, all of the skeptics are beginning to sweat.

"Er, maybe we should go . . ." says Starscream, backing up a few paces.

"Dude," says a Redshirt, stepping aside to avoid being squashed beneath those fabulous heels.  "It's just a guy in makeup.  You see them all the time in haunted houses."  He marches ahead, confidently, only for the zombie to burst into a sudden run, lunging at the guy, and tearing off his face.

Everyone, save Megatron, lets out a terrified scream before fleeing in three separate directions.  Arcee, Bumblebee, Breakdown, Redshirt #3, and Elvis go one way, Megatron and Optimus Prime stay put, Starscream, Jazz, Prowl, Knock Out, Redshirt #4 and Redshirt #5 go the other way.  The story has been divided into three parts, each equally important.  But the camera decides to begin with Optimus and Megatron.

"Shockwave's animatronics are quite impressive," says Megatron with a low whistle.

"Is that what these are?  I'm not so sure," Optimus replies, keenly aware that everyone else has retreated.  He would have left too, but _someone_ had to protect Megatron from his own stubbornness.

"Is that fear I hear?"

"Concern, mostly."

The zombie jumps at them, and they backstep to dodge it, but in doing so, they find that the floor is no more!  They've stepped onto a trapdoor, and fall down, down into a pit below, landing with a heavy 'oof.'

"What is this?" Optimus groans, crawling to his hands and knees.  Suddenly, there is a finger pressed to his lack of a nose, accusing.

"Hah!  I TOLD you there were secret passages!"

That's enough of that.  The camera decides it's time to check in with Starscream.  The group has stopped running in one of many nondescript purple rooms.  None of these were in the house's original blueprint.  How strange.

"What – what was that thing?"  Starscream pants. 

Jazz narrows his optics, jerking his head towards the hallway from whence they'd come.  "That, Starscream, was a motherfuckin' zombie."

"Don't be unreasonable, Jazz," Prowl urges.  "I'm sure there's a perfectly rational explanation for this."

"Megatron asked Shockwave to construct this haunted house.  Knowing Shockwave, it isn't too much of a stretch to think that he made actual monsters to fill it with."

Everyone stares gravely at Knock Out as he says this, each knowing that he is completely correct.  They have entered Hell.  There is no escape.  Only one word can properly summarize the situation, and that word is helpfully provided to us by Prowl.

"Jinkies..."

"Oh shut up!" Starscream snaps, throwing his arms in the air.

The Redshirts, are not helping with their own banter.  "What are we gonna do?  I don't want to die!"

"We should get help!"

The bots are a little more level-headed and productive in their approach.  Knock Out folds his arms over his chest, "As much as I don't want to admit it, we should probably find Megatron."

"Don't you mean Shockwave?"  Jazz asks.  "He _is_ the one who made all this.  One would think he'd be the one to _un_ make it."

"Nobody finds Shockwave if he doesn't want to be found," Starscream waves him off.  "But we don't need to find Megatron either."

"We don't?" asks Knock Out, cocking his head and raising an optic ridge.

"You forget that I, Starscream, am here!  I'll be the one to get us out of this mess.  Just follow my lead."  Nobody feels particularly safe hearing this.  Nervously, Jazz backs away.

"Err, does anyone hear that?"  Indeed, there does seem to be a steady shuffling sound approaching.  It is heralded by two zombie redshirts stumbling onto the scene.

"They're just humans," Starscream shrugs, disinterested.

That is, he is disinterested until the zombie bot slides into the scene afterwards and charges them. 

"Retreat!"  He cries.  The whole party makes a break for it, while we cut to Breakdown's group.

"You think the others are all right?" Arcee asks.

Bumblebee beeps a reply.

Breakdown, frustrated groans at the little bot, dressed like a dog.  "Does that mean yes or no?"

"It means shut up," Arcee 'translates' with a glare.  She's not one for patience, particularly when it comes to people being rude to her papa.  Breakdown, of course, fails to read the sarcasm in her voice.

"Wow.  That's not very nice of him."

Arcee may be eager to fight for Bumblebee's honor, but Bumblebee couldn't seem to care less.  Instead, he starts looking around the room, which seems to be filled with a whole lot of indiscernible junk.

"What's he doing?"  Breakdown asks.

"Do I look like I know?"

Breakdown pauses for a moment as he considers this.  "Yes?"

Although neither Breakdown nor Arcee can really see what it is Bumblebee is doing, he nonetheless seems to have found some success.  He motions for them to follow him.

"I guess he's found something," Arcee comments.

Indeed, buried beneath the mountains of junk, Bumblebee has come upon a particularly spooky corridor, complete with a total absence of light.  Normally, one might assume this is a bad way to go, but bots aren't coded to be afraid of the dark.  They have headlights for this exact scenario, which they all activate before proceeding.

Now, in this tight, creepy corridor, which has been painted black and decorated in (hopefully) fake spider webs, Breakdown tries to lighten the atmosphere with some small talk.

"So . . . Shaggy, huh?" he says, indicating Arcee's costume.  "I'd have thought Daphne, or even Velma."

"Why?  Because I'm a girl?" Arcee retorts.  "Clearly I'm supposed to dress like something I am.  That's why you're dressed as a horse's ass."

The laugh track sounds from overhead.

"Touché," Breakdown concedes, then pauses, as a vital realization dawns on him.  "Wait a minute."  He looks up towards the ceiling.

"What's up?" Arcee asks.

Before Breakdown can answer, however, his attention is drawn by a desperate honk from Bumblebee.  Moments later, two more zombie redshirts comes bursting down the corridor, causing the trio to flee and the camera to switch back to Optimus and Megatron, trapped in the bottom of a deep pit, each seated against a wall in defeat.

"I can't believe you got us stuck in this cellar,"  Megatron accuses, much to Optimus's confusion.  He looks up from his own brooding to stare at Megatron.  "And of all the bots I could be with right now, it had to be Optimus bleeding Prime."

"Megatron?  I am confused by your actions."

"Big surprise there."

Optimus has been cordial up to this point, but even _he_ has his limits.  He vents deeply, preparing himself for a short rant which has been a long time coming.  "It seems to me like one moment, you are trying to earn my approval, the next, trying to seduce me, and then the next, acting as if we are enemies.  It gives me a headache trying to follow along.  This, Megatron, is why I broke up with you."

Megatron watches, ashamed, embarrassed, and strangely, relieved.  ". . . I never knew," he says, awe-struck expression leaving Optimus feeling more awkward than ever.

"Well," he coughs.  "Now you do."  They share a long moment of silence.  Somebody has to change the subject.  It is the only way to save them.  And since Megatron is evil, this task falls to Optimus.  "So . . . How do we get out?"

"We don't," sighs Megatron.  "If I had some kind of  . . . fusion cannon, maybe I could shoot us out, but the fact of the matter is, we're stuck until someone finds us."

". . . Oh," says Optimus, deflating.  This was not at all how he had hoped to spend the evening, but he supposes he'll have to make do.  He scoots closer to Megatron, hoping to make the icy atmosphere a little warmer.  Before we can see if he succeeds, the camera chooses to return to Starscream's group.

"Ugh," groans Knock Out, vents running on fully blast.  "I can't run anymore.  But at least we lost those stupid Redshirts."

"Did we shake the zombies though?" asks Jazz.

Prowl, brave and still a little skeptical, peers around the corner, but only just, and even then, it's only for a second.  He still has _some_ sense of self-preservation.

"No."

"What are they doing?" asks Knock Out, prompting Prowl to peer around again.

"Sniffing around, it looks like."

Jazz folds his arms, tapping his chin in contemplation.  "There's gotta be some way to stop the little buggers."

"Have you tried shooting them?" Knock Out asks, unamused.

"I didn't bring any weapons.  This was supposed to be fun."

Knock Out, feeling that his idea does have _some_ merit, turns the question on Prowl.  "Prowl, you're an officer."

"I'm not shooting anything unless I can be certain it is a threat.  And I don't think these are."

Knock Out cannot believe his audial receptors.  His fists grip at the air in front of him, as though he is resisting the urge to rip off someone's face.  Speaking of . . . "They ripped that guy's face off!" he tries to justify, but it is to no avail.  Prowl is unmoved.

"I'm just saying, I think it's awfully convenient that –"

"Hey, where did Starscream go?" Jazz interrupts.

The sounds of gunfire draw their attention, and as one unit, the three folks all zip around the corner to watch in horror as Starscream charges forward, guns-a-blazing.    Somehow, without anyone's notice, he's managed to steal one of Prowls door wings, and is using it as a shield.

Prowl, aghast, double-checks to make sure that, yes, he is missing a wing, before exclaiming, "Hey!  That's my –"

But he cannot finish the sentence.  He is too horrified by the sight of Starscream, despite his best efforts, failing to hit anything.  The zombie bot, unimpressed, proceeds to slap him with all its might, though fortunately (unfortunately for Prowl), it is the shield that takes the brunt of it.  Regardless, the force is enough to knock Starscream back to the others.

Knock Out kneels down over his fallen parental-figure.  "Classy."

"I didn't see any of you helping," Starscream groans.

There is no time to mull in their defeat, however.  Jazz cries out, "Here they come!" and suddenly, the zombies are running for them.  At a time like this, there is only one thing to do.

The background music strikes up with some relaxing 60s-esque pop song, while our heroes run, run, run through a series of nondescript rooms, all mostly blues and greens a purples, as the zombies pursue them.  At one point, there is a hallway filled with doors.  Our heroes run in one, and come out another.  The zombies run in one, and come out another.  Our heroes run in a different door, only to back out immediately and run into another door.  The zombies enter one door, and come out from down the hall.  These shenanigans continue for a bit, until ultimately, our heroes and the zombies are expelled from opposite doors, resulting in a collision between the two groups.  Our heroes take off down the hall.

The appropriate Scooby Doo chase scene continues on, but the camera doesn't stay with it, instead hopping back to Breakdown's group, who seems to have outrun their zombie pursuers (RIP Redshirt #3), and are now taking the opportunity to get to know one another.  Breakdown, for instance, is grilling Arcee.

"So . . . are you single?" he asks, wearing the dopiest of smiles.  Arcee is less than pleased with Breakdown's persistent advances, however.

"Not interested."

Evidently, this is humorous enough to warrant the laugh track.  One might assume that whoever is using it has a very juvenile sense of humor . . . or is a bit . . . _bird-brained_.

"There it is again," Breakdown says, looking towards the ceiling.

"What?"

"The laugh track."

Elvis, who has been strangely quiet until now, finally sees fit to speak up.  "Nah man, that was me uh-huh-huh."  The impression is cringe-worthy, but not worthy of another laugh track.

A startled beep from Bumblebee's direction drags everyone's attention, but for once, they are not in immediate danger.  Instead, he directs them towards the other group's staged chase sequence.  As the background music has faded out, Elvis decides that, as Elvis, he must take it upon himself to provide the next song.  Everybody ignores him.

"Bee!" says Arcee, worried.  "We've gotta help them!" 

Bumblebee agrees with a beep.  But Breakdown puts a stop to whatever foolhardy rescue attempt they were planning before they have a chance to move.

"No wait, I got a better idea."

One jump cut later, we find ourselves staring down an elaborate, if not shoddy obstacle course.

"What is the point of this again?" Arcee asks, skeptical.

Breakdown puts his hands on his hips, as though he's had to explain this many times already, and wishes folks would just take him seriously and listen to the things he says, for the love of Primus!  It's not like it was a bad idea, or anything.  But he concedes to explain once again.  "When the zombies run by, they will trip on these roller skates," he indicates a pair of roller skates the size of Megatron's feet, "whereupon they will slide over this ledge," nobody asks where the ledge came from, "bounce off this trampoline," the trampoline is _not_ Cybertronian-sized, "rebound off that bumper, land on this rope net, roll down that junk pile, and get all tangled up, rendering them useless."  Breakdown looks very proud of himself.  It is a good plan.

"Just one problem with that..." says Arcee.  Must she always be so critical?  Breakdown didn't see _her_ coming up with any brilliant solutions to save the day.

But indeed, instead of capturing the zombies as intended, Starscream, Jazz, and Prowl all fall right into the trap.  Knock Out would have as well, but his gorgeous period dress is slowing him down.  Winning an Emmy for costuming will be worth getting mauled by a zombie.  But rest assured, the ensuing shenanigans occur exactly as Breakdown described.  But now, with their allies impeded, Breakdown, Arcee, and Bumblebee find themselves the new focus of the five zombie redshirts.  Evidently, they don't care about downed prey.

"Great job," gripes Arcee, much to Breakdown's immense sadness.  But Arcee is not only good at criticizing tomfoolery.  She is also good at turning her arms into guns and shooting things.  Bumblebee is also good at this and follows her.  But then, the strangest thing happens: the zombies immediately surrender.

One more jump cut later, all of the Redshirt zombies on the scene have been tied up.  Starscream's group has been freed from their restraints.  We all know what is coming.

Prowl approaches the group, hands on his hips, his expression stern and humorless as ever. 

"Now, let's see who you really are."  In one fell swoop, he pulls the face off of each Redshirt to reveal . . . a diminutive human basketball team.

"Er, I can't say I saw that one coming."  He has the saddest, most perplexed look on his face.  But Prowl is not in possession of all of the facts.  Starscream, however, is.

"Fool," he scoffs, strutting by and ripping off _those_ masks to reveal . . . Soundwave's Cassettes!

"Dammit," groans Frenzy.  "We were so close."

Knock Out stares at the little guys in awe.  "But if you're here, then where is . . . ?" he trails off, letting everyone else fill in the missing word themselves.

"I think I know the answer to that one," says Breakdown.  He bounds over to Elvis and pulls off his face to reveal . . .

"Megatron?!"  He leaps back, completely taken by surprise.

Fortunately for Breakdown, Megatron has only one thing on his mind.  "Starscream!"

Starscream, quickly hides his own surprise behind his ever-smug attitude.  "Come on, guys.  You even saw Soundwave leave the house dressed like this earlier.  It's so obviously still him."  He approaches Megatron and rips his face off . . . or tries to.  But when it doesn't budge, and when Megatron lays a very unhappy glare on him, Starscream quickly realizes his mistake.  "Aw, slag."

"Starscream," Megatron growls, "get me out of here this instant!"

But if Elvis was Megatron (plus extensive use of mass shifting), then who is the Megatron trapped in the pit with Optimus?  It's time to find out.

"The truth is, Optimus," Megatron admits, "I've always been envious of you."

"Of _me_?" Optimus echoes, surprised.

"You always had good grades, good friends, you're strong and charismatic, you have a great wife, or whatever, perfect kids, and I – everything I do is destined to fail."

"Things are not always as they seem, Megatron," Optimus tries to comfort.  He wasn't prepared for such honesty from his long-time rival.  Megatron offers a wan smile in return.

"I just wish we could go back, Optimus.  I wish we had a second chance to start again."

"You know we can't do that, Megatron.  We're different people than we were in college.  I have Bumblebee now.  And you have Starscream."

"Starscream is nothing to me!!" Megatron asserts, a resolute fire in his eyes, but Optimus refuses to back down, even after a long and meaningful stare.  Megatron slumps.  "You're right.  I'm sorry.  That was too far."

One more awkward pause later, Optimus sees fit to answer.  "You know, I was envious of you, too."

"What?"

"You always were so free, to speak what you wanted; other bots flocked to you, to your awe-inspiring presence, even now.  I could never understand why, when you could have had any bot you pleased, that you chose me.  I felt like I was special – with you, I could do anything, be anything.  You are living fire, Megatron, strong, and passionate, and yes, destructive too.  The rest of us are helpless before you."

Megatron stares at Optimus, his eyes wide, glassy, in love.  "Do you . . . really mean that?"  He draws ever so slightly closer.

"I – I really do."  Optimus mimics the gesture.

Whether or not they actually would have kissed, however, must be resigned to our own imaginations.  An angry honk interrupts them, and the pair leap several feet apart, deeply ashamed that they allowed themselves to progress so far.

"Ah, Bumblebee!" Optimus calls out.  "You've found us!"

"What?  No!"  Megatron is less than pleased with the development, or so it seems.  At least until the _real_ Megatron calls down to him.

"Soundwave!  You've got some explaining to do."  Megatron is not angry.  He never gets angry with Soundwave.  But he is _very_ disappointed.

The gig is now up.  The fake Megatron undergoes an elaborate transformation until he is Soundwave once again, much to Optimus Prime's surprise.  It really was a flawless costume.

A tiny "<3" flashes across Soundwave's visor, before he skitters up the wall and out of the hole.

A jumpcut later, the Autobots are helping Optimus out of the hole, while Soundwave is speaking to Megatron in a corner.

"And what part of Shockwave's plan required you to seduce Optimus Prime?" grumbles Megatron, at this point, more tired than anything.  He wants the evening to be over.

However, the transcript of the previous conversation that appears on Soundwave's visor is enough to lift his spirits.

"He said THAT?  How . . . juicy."

**_-Cut to Blackout-_ **

"You there.  Are you cold?  Are you hungry?  Do you like holidays?  Hah!  Rhetorical question!  Of COURSE you like _holidays_!  Who doesn't like _holidays_?  Only _monsters_ don't like _holidays_ . . ."  The Minibot's blue visor lights up, all menacing-like.  The image is interrupted by a sharp bark of laughter.  "Yeah, so anyway, the point it, hot energon-o-late is just the thing you need!  It tastes like everything you love about the holidays – freezing your pistons off, hiding in your room from your dysfunctional relatives, having everyone forget to get you presents – it's okay!  I know they're just – they're just running late.  It's gonna be the best gift ever, once it finally gets in!  This year for sure!"  He trails off with a laugh.  He laughs so that he does not cry.

"But yeah, hot energon-o-late.  It's great!  You can drink it plain or with whipped energon, or energon-omallows, or a shot of Earth Human Whiskey.  You can drink it in a cube or in a thematically appropriate mug, like the one in my hand.  You can drink it at home, or you can drink it at a bar.  Namely my bar.  And when I say, 'you can drink it at a bar,' I mean, 'you _should_ drink it at a bar.'  Heathens!  First you hate the holidays, then you drink your _hot energon-o-late_ at home.  What's _wrong_ with kids these days?!

"Anyway, eat at Swerves!"

_A helpful voice repeats 'Eat at Swerves' to the tune of a catchy jingle while Swerve flies by on a pumpkin._

**_-Back to our regularly-scheduled programming-_ **

Everyone now sits together in the de-spookified living room, sipping hot energon-o-late from little mugs.  There are energon-mallows in there.  It looks very delicious.  You want some.

Breakdown takes a long sip of his, a contemplative look on his face.  "So the Redshirts were the Cassettes, and Elvis was Megatron, and Megatron was Soundwave.  I got that part.  But what I want to know is, who was the other zombie bot?"

Shockwave has rigged a curly straw to transfer the energon from the cube to the gaping void somewhere beneath his eyeball.  "Oh.  He was an actual zombie-bot."

Breakdown chokes on his energon.  "What?" 

"I thought it would be more authentic," Shockwave says with a shrug. 

"And that thing's still out there?" Knock Out cries, eyes wide and worried.

"I suppose it is.  How troublesome."  Shockwave doesn't look particularly troubled.

Prowl, however, seems to have reached his limit.  He stands, setting his cube on a little coaster on the coffee table.  "All right.  That's enough for me.  I'm sorry, Optimus, but your neighbors are strange and unpleasant.  Come on, Jazz.  Let's get out of here."

"Bye guys, it was a blast!"  Unsurprisingly, Jazz seemed to enjoy the events of the evening more than his partner.  The pair exit, prompting Optimus to rise as well.  

"I suppose it's high time for the rest of us to be leaving too."  He nods his head politely at Megatron.  "Thank you for the invitation, Megatron.  It was . . ." he trails off, completely at a loss for anything good to say that would not be an outright lie.  Eventually, he settles on, "an experience."

"Ah, yes," Megatron sneers.  This was  not how he intended the evening to go at all.  "I'm glad you . . . experienced it."  Although Optimus and his family depart on shaky terms, Megatron doesn't seem to mind.  That's because Megatron has a secret weapon.  He sneaks off into the corner to replay the 'You are living fire' clip.

"What have you got there?" Starscream asks, peering over his shoulder.

"Nothing!  Go away Starscream!" Megatron smacks lightly at Starscream, who takes the hint.  "Go take care of that zombie, or whatever."

After all that he's been through tonight, Starscream is in no mood to deal with Megatron's bullshit.  "Maybe I will!" he screams, before stomping upstairs and into the night.

-END CREDITS-

_Written by: Darksidekelz and the Mysterious Stranger_

_Characters Played By:  Mystery Inc._

_Special thanks to:  That mug of hot chocolate that kept me toasty as I wrote_

While the others were busy drinking delightful hot drink, Soundwave was busy getting work done.  The body of the eradicated zombie bot lies at his feet; Soundwave wins the zombie apocalypse.  On the downside, he had to chase the thing into Shockwave's lab to reach his desired conclusion, which is . . . not ideal.

Something flies at his head, unseen, but Soundwave dodges it anyway, because he is just that cool.  A pair of exclamation points appear on his visor, but the shock wears off quickly enough.  He tries to investigate, but try as he might, there is nothing around.  In the end, he leaves the lab, clearly unsettled.

Unbeknownst to him, but totally knownst to us, a blurry figure is watching him from the shadows.


	5. In Your Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to an unfortunate mishap, Shockwave is fired from his job managing the Decepticon household. Now he's out here on his own.

Yadda yadda, we see the Decepticon house.  It is the same house we always see.  Inside, Shockwave is rearranging some data pads, sighing deeply, before approaching the door to Megatron's office.  At first, Megatron's back is to the door, but when he hears his brother come in, he slowly swivels around, a look of derision in his eye.

"Shockwave," he says.

"Megatron," Shockwave responds.

"We need to talk," Megatron explains.

"We do," Shockwave agrees, holding up one of his data pads.  "I've been going over the budget, and I find –"

Megatron holds up a hand to interrupt him.  "I am the leader.  I'll go first."

"As you wish," Shockwave sighs, his antennae giving an irritated twitch.

"Shockwave, what is it you do around here?"

Shockwave's got this!  He does a whole lot!  "Well, I organize the kids, provide the groceries, and most importantly, manage the budget."

But Megatron isn't buying it.  "You spend so much time tinkering in the basement."

"Yes."  Shockwave punctuates the statement with an eager nod.  "My tinkering will change the future."

Megatron, however, is less enthused.  "Yes, well, I can't help but notice, your tinkering is costing me money.  I was just looking over this month's budget."

"The one I sent in for approval three weeks ago, Lord Megatron?"

"And I find that money is distressingly tight," he continues, either ignoring the dig, or unaware of it.

"Yes.  I wanted to talk to you about this as well."  Shockwave is growing frustrated.  Megatron has never been good at using his listening audials, but if he'd just _try_ for a few seconds, he could save the both of them so very much time.

"I'm going to have to cut your personal allotment."

Shockwave flinches, fury emanating off him in waves.  "I beg your pardon?"

Megatron doesn't even bother looking at him as he explains, too focused on his own data pads.  "You live in my basement and waste my energy, but do nothing in return."

"With all due respect, Lord Megatron," Shockwave retorts, marching forward and slamming his hand on the desk.  "I am responsible for managing this entire household."

Megatron's eyes shift up, glancing at Shockwave over the top of his pad.  "With all due respect, Shockwave, anyone could do what you do."

Feeling cornered, Shockwave stumbles back, a twinge of fear in his usually emotionless voice.  "Lord Megatron, there are simpler ways to solve this issue.  I've made a graph."  He fumbles through his data pads, held against his magnificent boob by his cannon arm.  He finds the one he's looking for and shows it to Megatron.

Displayed within is a pie chart that indicates where all the money goes.  Knock Out and Breakdown are both tiny slivers.  Megatron, Shockwave, Soundwave, bills, etcetera, are decent slivers.  Starscream has more than half of the budget.

"As per your instruction, it would seem that Starscream has been allotted more than his fair share of the funds."

"Nonsense," scoffs Megatron, without even looking at the chart.  "Unlike you, Starscream earns his keep around here."

"Doing what?" Shockwave volleys, regaining some of his backbone.

At last, it seems Megatron is ready to take Shockwave seriously, as when he answers, he is rather evasive.  "Oh . . . you know.  This and that . . . Things.  Anyway, he has his music business on the side, or whatever."

"Yes, I have accounted for that," Shockwave replies, "and the numbers still fail to add up.  And would it not be logical for him, as secondary head of household, to contribute to the upkeep of the household, rather than retain all of his personal income, and then receive more than half of yours?  There is no logical reason for him to need so much money."

"Yeah, I just thought you should know, that I stopped listening the moment you said 'logical.'"  Megatron shrugs, uncaring, much to Shockwave's chagrin.

"You are a very frustrating individual."  He gathers his datapads back into his arms, finials twitching in ill-concealed rage.  "Look, all I'm suggesting, is that we divert some of Starscream's excess income to pay for, say bills, or maintenance.  I've noticed that we still haven't gotten that hole in the roof fixed yet."

There is a vengeful fire in Megatron's eyes at the observation.  He bolts up, slamming his hands on the desk.  "I _like_ the hole in the roof!"  With that in the air, he is able to say the next part more calmly.  "Really, Shockwave, you're making a big deal out of nothing here.  There's no reason to fix what isn't broken to begin with."

"This is completely illogical."

The longer Megatron speaks with Shockwave, the more irritated he grows.  "Well, if you want to make a fuss, I could always _fire_ you." 

Shockwave hesitates.  Megatron _wouldn't_.  "That would be unwise," he ventures, uncertain.

"Oh yeah?  Come, Shockwave.  I'm not obligated to keep you here.  It's not like you pay rent or anything."  Never try to bluff Megatron.  He _will_ hold you up to it.

Shockwave is _angry_ now.  "And who, sir, would you have manage the house in my absence?  Surely not Starscream?"

" _I_ shall do it!" Megatron asserts, hands boldly on his hips.

Shockwave would have laughed, were he a mech more prone to emotional outbursts.  "You?  Forgive me for saying, Lord Megatron, but my job is not so easily done.  But you can feel free to try.  I promise you, you won't last the week. "  This isn't worth it anymore.  He has devoted his life to this family, and they have given him nothing in return.  He is done!

Shockwave leaves the room, but Megatron simply _must_ get the last word.

"Oh yeah?  Well – well _YOU_ won't last the week either, out there on your own!  What now?!"  He has his arms spread wide like an aggressive fratboy.  But the longer he stands there, the more awkward he begins to feel.  Eventually, the camera pans around to reveal Soundwave watching him from the corner.

And although Soundwave has maintained his usual silence, Megatron is nonetheless compelled to say, "Shut up, Soundwave."

That earns him some canned laughter.

**_-Cut to Black-_ **

♪Same old song as it's always been♪

♪Same old footage of the fam'ly and friends♪

♪Nothing new, fast forward is your friend♪

♪Soundwave and Starscream show up to present: ♪

**Episode 5: In Your Shoes**

**_-Cut to Blackout-_ **

"You have twenty seconds to tell us your pitch," says the mech with the dull yellow plating, the purple detailing, the oversized eyes.  Haven't we seen him somewhere before?

"Imagine a fifty-two episode television series about a handsome, troubled young human man with a VERY human name, on a mission from Primus to save the universe.  He is assisted by the Autobots, because, let's face it, the Decepticons would never put up with his human fleshiness.  The Autobots include an ever-increasing number of nameless shmoes under the leadership of Optimus Prime, who is kind of an asshole, because if I have learned anything about leaders, they are assholes.  Anyway, they fight against the Decepticons, who have deeper, more meaningful stories . . . actually no – they'd better not.  Don't want the audience to think I'm playing favorites.  The Decepticons are all obnoxious archetypes, and – and, and the Autobots like to wear each other as pants!  Also, Unicron is there . . . I guess.  So?  What do you think?"

The large-eyed mech ponders for a moment.  "Trim it down to a full-length motion picture, add some sex appeal, and we got ourselves a movie!"  He reaches out a hand.  "Pleasure doing business with you, Thundercracker."

"The pleasure is mine."

_Now, for the first time, on Blu Ray and DVD, see the making of the critically-acclaimed motion picture, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, written and directed by Thundercracker of Vos._

**_-Back to our Regularly-Scheduled Programming-_ **

We're in one of the many lengthy hallways of chateau Decepticon.  Megatron strides forward, his stance filled with determination and purpose, while a confused Starscream and Soundwave follow him.

"Lord Megatron, what's going on?" Starscream asks, cocking his head.  Megatron waits until there is a doorway for him to pose dramatically in before he answers.

"Shockwave has left us."

A scandalized 'oooh' sounds from Soundwave's direction.  Starscream too exhibits a strong reaction, throwing himself at the wall, wiping away his perfectly legitimate tears with a handkerchief.

"Oh, what a shame!  Brothers, torn apart by wildly conflicting personalities, and Shockwave's poor sense of personal hygiene!  I suppose I'll be getting his share of the budget?"  It does not take long for him to recover from his period of mourning. 

Megatron fixes Starscream a bitter glare.  "Don't think I didn't notice what a money-sink you are, Starscream.  If I hadn't wanted to kick out my creepy, unwashed brother anyway, I wouldn't have thought twice about cutting you off."

"Thank Primus for family."

Megatron shrugs off the comment.  "Anyway, he assured me that his shoes would not be so easy to fill.  I say, bring it!  From here on in, Soundwave:" he points sharply at Soundwave, "you'll be in charge of maintenance; Starscream:" his finger darts to Starscream next, "you get homemaking and the kids, and I," his finger finds its way back to his own chest, "shall manage the budget."

Starscream and Soundwave exchange grave glances as they take in their new orders.  Then, without warning, the canned laughter erupts from all around them.  Soundwave has given his answer, but Starscream still has much to say.

"Lord Megatron," he chuckles, clapping an exquisitely-manicured hand on Megatron's shoulder.  Megatron glares at it as though it is covered in giant roaches.  "With all due respect, wouldn't it make more sense to have Soundwave handle things like that?  Or everything, really. 

The laughter cuts out, and Soundwave's empty face hones in on Starscream.  The atmosphere around him grows dark, and one gets the sense that, if he had eyes, they would be narrowed in a venomous glare.

"Are you doubting my skill, Starscream?" Megatron asks, paying no attention to Soundwave.  He does however, pry Starscream's fingers from his shoulder, and give him a firm shove away.  Starscream stumbles backwards, realizing his mistake.

"Of - of course not!"

"Good," Megatron growls, whirling around, and stepping into the room before him, prepared to slam the door in Starscream's face.  He does, however, hesitate.  "Oh, and Soundwave . . ."

A question mark pops up on Soundwave's visor.

"You get Shockwave's old room."

Soundwave nods obediently, but Starscream is none too happy with the arrangement.

"What?  What about _me_?  Soundwave already _has_ a room!"

"And I am rewarding his good behavior with a second," Megatron explains.  "Now, everything's settled.  I'm so glad I got rid of that dead weight, Shockwave."

Despite Soundwave's earlier complacent attitude, and Starscream's obvious jealousy, the two exchange nervous glances.  There is no way this can end well.

Meanwhile, we've found ourselves cutting away to Shockwave, standing all by his lonesome on the street, as angry pedestrians and vehicles alike try to get around him.  He pays them no mind, too lost in his own world.

"Money will be tight until Megatron takes me back.  I suppose it would be logical to get a job to provide while I wait, or in the unlikely event that my predictions are incorrect."  He ponders for a moment, aloud.  "My experiments are still back at the house.  It's too early to sell them, nonetheless.  I will have to come up with something more immediately lucrative."

One more cut gives us Shockwave working a lemonade stand.  Within seconds, Blurr has zipped up to the counter.

"Lemonergon?  I love that stuff!  It's so good and fresh and wonderful – takes me back to my childhood on Velocitron – did you know that lemonergon is the favored drink of all Velocitron?  I'll bet you didn't!  Oh, but I really shouldn't be bothering you with tales of my past – we're complete strangers, after all.  It's just plain weird for me to be doing such a thing.  Anyway, how much?  50 cents?  Really?  Only 50 cents?!  You've covered your cost of supplies and taxes, surely, but that's really not very much to live on – you're not very savvy at business decisions, are you?  I would know; I own my own business, did you know that?  Maybe you've seen the television adverts?  Ahh, but that's neither here nor there.  If you want to charge 50 cents for your product, then you've got yourself a deal, sir!  I'll even throw in an extra dollar for tip, just because you really have appealed to my nostalgia and eccentric tastes.  I really do want to see you succeed.  Anyway, here you are!"  Mr. Chatterbox lets up just long enough to thrown some change on the table.  "Actually," he says, holding an entire conversation with himself in half a second, "I'll take two!"   He adds to the change pile.

A baffled Shockwave can only say, "Ah, yes.  Thank you."  He prepares the drinks, and offers both to Blurr.  Unsurprisingly, Blurr chugs it all down in the blink of an eye.

"Ah, that really hit the spot!  Thank you very much, sir!  I'll be sure to tell all my friends about this quaint and magnificent little Lemonergon stand!  Good luck to you!"  He zooms off before Shockwave can thank him; not that he would have anyway.  No, Shockwave is instead looking about as smug as he can with no face.  He's made three dollars without even trying.  This business thing is going to be so very easy.

"It begins."

**- _Cut to Blackout-_**

"Has this ever happened to you?"

_A happy little Decepticar, sleek and sporty, maroon in color, is driving down the highway when WHAM!  Flat tire.  He is no longer a happy Decepticar._

"Curse this fate of mine.  I should have known.  It was inevitable.  We were all doomed anyway.  I am stranded in this wasteland; the cyber-vultures will pick apart the remains of my starved chassis.  From dust to dust."

"What about this?"

_Another Decepticon, a tank this time, is drinking and making merry at the local pub._

"I sure am having a good time," he says, stiffly.  "But I gotta go home now.  I sure hope I'm not too drunk to be driving." 

_He transforms into his alt mode and promptly drives into a pole._

"Well, don't!  Ransack and Crumplezone are here, ready to introduce to you our fabulous new service – Decepticab!  Now available for any Decepticon, anywhere on the planet.  Give us a call, and we'll be there."

"Decepticab!  For where wheels won't get you."

- ** _Back to our regularly-scheduled Programming-_**

Starscream has found himself at a hardware store, staring first at his shopping list, and then the very small pile of bills clutched in his hands.  His lips turn downward.

"Megatron, you dolt.  I can't afford any of this . . . "

But then, just as he's on the verge of giving up, he sees some humans walk into the grocery store across the street.

" _There's_ an idea..."

Back at home, Soundwave has found himself in the basement with Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, Laserbeak, and Buzzsaw.  The Minicons have spread out to explore, each and every one buzzing with excitement.  Rumble hops up onto a medical table and flops down.

"Frag yeah!  Finally enough room for all of us!  Dibs on this bed!"

Laserbeak, worried about being ignored, screes softly on Soundwave's head until he receives a soft pat.  But much to his chagrin, Soundwave's attention is soon directed to Rumble, who hops on the table next to Frenzy.

"And we can be as loud as we want down here!" he cheers, smacking his brother on the back.  A small scuffle ensues, but there are more important things to focus on – things like the funny-looking sheet of metal that Ravage has sniffed up.  He nudges it into a perplexed Soundwave's hands.

"What's that?" Frenzy asks, no longer interested in fighting Rumble.

"It's an arm, ya ignoramus!" Rumble retorts.

"I – I knew that!  Obviously!  It's just . . . whose arm _is_ it?"

Both look to each other, suddenly realizing the further implications of Ravage's discovery.  A quick pan of the room  with a different eye now shows us all the things that our heroes somehow missed in the brief time they've been down here.  These things include, but are not limited to: cages of abominations, instruments of torture, shelves lined with Transformers figures, creepy candid photos of their housemates lining the walls, Reflector sitting inconspicuously in their alt mode on the shelf, energon spilled on the floor, and so on and so forth.  Nobody reacts for a long moment, letting the low-key horror sink in.

"Boss, I don't wanna stay here anymore," Frenzy squeaks, though Soundwave has no reply for him.

Back in Megatron's office, our local patriarch is sitting at his desk, frowning over the bills, when Soundwave walks in.

"I can't talk right now, Soundwave," he says without looking up.  That is when Soundwave beeps.  Not like Bumblebee's series of clicks and chirrs, but just one brief beep.  When that fails to get Megatron's attention, he does it again.  And then again.

"Must you do that?"

Now that he has Megatron's attention, Soundwave replays a clip of what he found in the basement for Megatron's benefit.  But Megatron does not seem nearly so disturbed as Soundwave expected he would be.

"I don't know what you're so upset about.  It's just a torture chamber."

Soundwave has no response to that, so Megatron must continue the conversation.

"Really," he says, "I don't have time to deal with this right now.  Accounting is harder than I thought it would be.  How am I supposed to have enough money to commission my glorious statues and portraits, feed my children, pay my bills, maintain my house, save up for my own, personal space bridge, tune up my various alt modes, make my weekly pilgrimage to Tetrahex, and _still_ have enough left over for everybody to have a little spending money?"  He pauses, glancing around subversively, before adding, "Not that you heard any of this from me."

Again, Soundwave has nothing to say to that, but Megatron takes meaning from his judgmental silence nonetheless.

"No, I'm not  cutting Starscream's budget.  Don't even suggest it."

Soundwave maintains his silence, but for all Megatron cares, they're having their own, personal conversation.  Or perhaps he really does know Soundwave that well.

"Well, maybe a few dollars couldn't hurt . . ."

Before Soundwave has a chance to stare at him in silence again, Starscream's voice interrupts them from downstairs.  "Dinner is served!"

"Speak of the devil," says Megatron, glad for an excuse to leave this conversation.  "We'll finish this discussion later."

Downstairs, everyone sits down to a succulent human dinner – meat and potatoes and, like, peas or something?  Whatever.  The bots around the table are staring at the food with varying degrees of mistrust, but nobody is foolish enough to comment on it.  That is, of course, until they take their first bite.

In unison, every Decepticon sitting around the table spits out their food, except for Starscream who wasn't so stupid as to eat it.

"What _is_ this slop?" chokes out Knock Out.

Megatron prefers a more classic complaint.  "You have failed me yet again, Starscream."

"There's no fuel in this at all," Breakdown complains.  "Is this people food?"

And Starscream answers, "It is."

In his best Ricky Ricardo voice, Megatron turns to Starscream and says, "Starscream, you've got some 'splainin' to do."

But Starscream is in the mood for neither games nor catch phrases.  "You didn't budget me enough money for even _one_ cube of energon.  I bought what we could afford.  _Really_ Megatron, I don't understand how you've already managed to so brutally mangle the system Shockwave had set up in twelve hours, but the feat is quite impressive.  That's got to be some kind of record!"  He smirks like the little shit he is.  This meal was clearly not meant to be a meal, so much as it was to prove a point.  He continues, "Anyway, you eat what we can afford.  If you want to blame someone, you'll have to start with yourself.  Bon appétit, Lord Megatron."

Megatron, however, does not like that dinner has been used to prove a point.  With a mighty roar, he flips the table, spilling meat, and potatoes, and _peas_ , or whatever, all over the floor.

"And just _who_ is going to clean that up?" Starscream chastises, once the tantrum is out.

Megatron, fire in his optics, turns to Starscream, who is now beginning to realize that antagonizing the raging warlord was probably not in his best interests.

"A-ah yes!  You heard him, kids.  Get to it!"

The moment is accompanied by some canned laughter.

- ** _Cut to Blackout-_**

"Are you . . . lonely?"

Maybe.

"Do you . . . want to meet someone?"

Sure, why not?

"Do you . . . want that someone to be a _Cybertronian?_ "

Hell fucking yes, I do!

"Good," the deep, sensual voice says.  "Turn down the lights, and usher out all children.  This commercial is best viewed in private, by viewers over the age of sixteen decacycles and three joor-breems."

Well, I'm probably over that age . . . I think.

"Alone?  Good.  The Passion Connection is your place to meet hot, single Cybertronians in your area.  Autobots.  Decepticons.  Maximals.  Predacons.  And anything in between.  Input your interests, location, and deepest desires, and our love gurus will match you with the bot of your dreams."

~

"I met the love of my life over the Passion connection," says a blue bot with a mighty chin, embracing a disgruntled red minibot.  "Ten of ten.  Would use again."

~

"We've been together for two million years and counting," says an orange bot to his tiny Cassette conjunx.

"And you met on the Passion Connection, right?"

"Huh?  What?  Yeah, whatever."

~

"The Passion Connection brought me and Silverbolt here together, by bringing to light our mutual love of getting paid to lie on camera.  Isn't that right, dear?"

"Of course, my dark love."

~

"You hear that?  Happy customers.  And you too will be a happy customer.  So come, join over five satisfied customers and meet your one true destiny.  The Passion Connection.  Get connected."

<3

- ** _Back to our regularly-scheduled Programming-_**

Back from the break, we open at Shockwave's lemonade stand, where Shockwave is seated, his not-quite chin resting in his hand, looking as bored as one can without a face.

"Twelve hours passed, three dollars made.  This is not as effective as I've been led to believe . . . Perhaps I would be best served in a new line of business."

We cut to a company called _Takara_ , where he is speaking with a receptionist.

"I'm sorry, we don't actually need a 'mad scientist,' at the moment.  Doctor Arkeville is happily filling that role for us."

Shockwave, however, is persistent, if nothing else.  After all, he has no shame.  "A mascot, perhaps?  I have been told that I am 'downright adorable' on occasion."

"No," says the Receptionist.  "We don't need one of those either.  Have you _seen_ our mascot?"  She points at a photograph of Tailgate, standing there, looking cute.  He might be yawning, but you can't tell.  He has no mouth.  "Cute little guy, ain't he?"

"I am also an experienced accountant," Shockwave tries, growing desperate.  The receptionist can only giggle.

"Oh sir, we have _machines_ to do all that stuff nowadays."

The irony is not lost on Shockwave.  "Machines.  Of course."  His finials droop.  He has given up.

"Anyway, we don't want to hire you right now.  If you don't leave, I'm afraid I may have to call security."  The conversation is pretty much over at this point.  It would be unwise to press.

"I . . . understand," Shockwave says, bowing his head.  "Thank you for your time."

He steps out of the room, heaving a heavy sigh, and looking for all the world like a mech defeated.  This gig is harder than he thought, and barely any time has passed at all.  He is homeless, unemployed, and miserable.  Right about now, he could really go for a drink.

. . . .

He decides to go for a drink.  He is now at Swerve's Bar, contemplating a cube of neon green liquid in front of him, wondering if it really _will_ give him super powers.  It is at this point that someone approaches him from behind.  We know that someone is approaching, because the camera has taken their first-person perspective, and is drawing nearer.  It's not until they draw his attention, until Shockwave looks up and acknowledges the sneak's presence, that we get to see who it is.

"Starscream.  Soundwave," he acknowledges, nodding at the two mechs.  They've certainly seen better days.  Soundwave appears to have some mashed potatoes stuffed in his crest.  Shockwave thinks this is odd, but does not comment on it.  Soundwave has always been odd.

"Yes," says Starscream.  "Soundwave and I tracked you down."

"Yes, I figured.  Soundwave has an annoying tendency to find whatever it is he wants to find, regardless of whether or not it was meant to be found by him."  There seems to be some alternative meaning behind those words that goes right over Starscream's head.  But Soundwave fixes Shockwave with a stare of silent understanding.  This will probably come to a head much later.

Shockwave takes a swig of his drink with the help of a curly straw.  It is a very awkward swig.  "What is your purpose for stalking me?"

"We want – "

"And don't say that you want me to come back.  Nothing short of an apology from Megatron can resolve the situation."  Shockwave doesn't bother allowing Starscream to finish.  Soundwave, however, is ready with an audio clip.

<<Anyway, we don't want to hire you right now>>

Shockwave's finials give an irritated twitch, but he covers his feelings well.  "I maintain that Megatron will break before I come into financial troubles."

Soundwave, however, is a tough opponent.  He pulls up Shockwave's bank statement, pointing out that Shockwave doesn't even have enough money to afford the drink he is currently attempting to swig.  The graphic is enough to make him take pause mid-gulp.  He puts the drink down.

"These numbers are inaccurate," he says, carefully.  "I do not recall purchasing round-trip space bridge tickets to Tetrahex."  He takes a moment to think, the grim truth dawning on him all too soon. 

"Megatron has been using my personal funds.  How dubiously legal of him.  And rude.  Still, it changes nothing."  He is clearly angry – more so than before.  But he is also stubborn.  He moves to take another swig of his drink, but pauses, carefully making sure to only take a sip instead.  With any luck, Megatron will pick him up at the end of the night.  Best to stall, to make Megatron pay for the drinks that Shockwave still intends to order.  After all, today has be rubbish.

Soundwave shrugs at Starscream.  He's taken his best shot, and it was a miss.  It's now Starscream's turn.  Fortunately for the both of them, Starscream has significantly less dignity.  He throws himself at Shockwave's feet, begging.  "Megatron doesn't have a clue as to what he's doing!  He'll run our home into the ground.  Come on, Shockwave.  Think of the children!"

"I have already predicted such an outcome and remain unsurprised."

Starscream isn't done yet, however.  "But this is so – so – illogical!  Just sitting here doing nothing as the rest of us suffer."  If there's one thing Shockwave can't resist, it's logic.

Shockwave fails to resist the logic.  "And yet, were I to return now, Megatron would remain convinced that he was in the right, and nothing would change.  He must learn his lesson if I am to return."  He does however, twist it to his own ends.

Starscream has lost.  Seething, he concedes, shooting up to his feet, wings ramrod straight.  "Ugh, fine!  You want an apology, I'll get you an apology!"

Back at the house, Megatron is sitting at his desk, reading from a greatly-increased pile of data pads.  It is at this point that someone approaches him from behind.  We know that someone is approaching, because the camera has taken their first-person perspective, and is drawing nearer.  It's not until they draw his attention, until Megatron looks up and acknowledges the sneak's presence, that we get to see who it is.

"Starscream, what do you want?  Make it quick.  I'm busy."

Starscream stomps forward, slams the datapad out of Megatron's hands and onto the desk, luckily not cracking the screen in the process.  There is a fire in his eyes that makes even Megatron take notice.  "Megatron, I'm going to say this once, and I want you to listen carefully.  We need Shockwave.  Apologize to him."

Megatron narrows his eyes and rises to his feet to loom over Starscream.  "You _dare_ to give _me_ orders?"

Starscream is slightly nervous, but not to the degree that he would back down.  He still has _some_ spine.  His tone when he speaks, however, is significantly softer.  "The two of you are driving the family into the ground!  I mean, I hate the guy too, but you can't deny that he had good managerial skills!  I mean, just look at us!  I'm too pretty for chores, Soundwave's too –"  Something strange has happened to the audio.  Whatever Starscream said is lost beneath a loud and generic voice saying "Superior" at exactly the same moment.  Nobody seems to notice.  It must have happened in post-production.  " – for maintenance, and you?  You're too proud to admit that you're wrong!"

"Enough, Starscream," Megatron says, sinking back into his chair and burying his face in his hands.  "I do not feel like arguing with you right now."

Emboldened, Starscream pries away the hand to force eye contact.  "Well that's too damn bad, isn't it?  I'm not stopping until you pull that stick out of your aft, and apologize to Shockwave, and everything is back in its neat and proper order!"

The scandalized 'oooh' sound effect plays, prompting both Megatron and Starscream to glare at Soundwave, who is peering in from the doorway.  He's making no effort to hide.  He's just standing there, blocking anyone from entering the room, like a jerk.

"Do you have to do that?" Megatron groans.

However, for Soundwave, this isn't just another punch line.  He's gotten Megatron's attention, and he intends to use it.  Childish stick figure representations of the family begin to appear across his visor, drawn as though on an etch-a-sketch.  They're all smiling and holding hands, while standing atop the planet Earth.

At the sight of this heartfelt show of unity, Megatron can't help but allow a single tear to roll down his scarred cheek.  "I understand.  You want us to be a family again."

"I think that means he wants to conquer the Earth," Starscream groans in the background, folding his arms.  _He_ wanted to be the one to convince Megatron to change his ways.  Of course, he is met with the standard, 'Shut up, Starscream!'

With that out of the way, Megatron seems to be filled with sudden resolve.  He is legitimately touched.  "I will make this right," he says, then exits.

Starscream fixes an envious glare on Soundwave.  "He only fell for that because I softened him up first."

In response, Soundwave plays for him an audio clip.  <<Shut up, Starscream.>>

Back in the bar, Shockwave is on his seventh cube.  The pint-sized bartender, a mech named Swerve is standing on a stool, watching him with a look of concern.

"I think you've had enough, pal."

"I don't feel even a tingle," Shockwave responds.  "It is not appreciated."

Swerve, nervous though he is, does not back down.  "Tingles are one thing, man, but we're closing soon.  You gotta pay up and go home.  I'll call you a Decepticab if you want."

"That won't be necessary."  At the sound of the new voice, Shockwave looks up blearily from his cube of engex to see Megatron standing in the doorway, preventing people from exiting the bar.  Like a jerk.  He checks his chronometer, then looks back to Megatron.

"You're early."

"I beg your pardon?"  He strides over to the bar, prompting poor Swerve to give a sigh of 'Good grief,' before pretending to clean up.  It's clear that he is totally listening in.  How could he miss such juicy gossip?

"How far you've fallen, Shockwave.  An Autobar?  Really?"

Shockwave is ready with his retort, drunk or not.  "You surely have not come here for the atmosphere, nor for petty taunts.  Go ahead and do what you've come here to, Lord Megatron."

Megatron is caught off guard.  It seems he hadn't quite come here with any sort of plan at all.  "I – uh . . . well . . ."

"I'm listening."

One poisonous glare and several seconds of further stammering later, Megatron is able to put together enough words to make a proper sentence.  "I suppose what I'm trying to say is – we're family.  And even though you creep me the frag out, we should stick together."

"Illogical.  Try again."  Shockwave takes a swig of his cube, and waves his cannon hand dismissively.  Megatron narrows his eyes, but there is nothing he can do to fight Shockwave's superiority.  It is simply too superior.

"Grr.  Fine.  I was wrong."  He slumps, defeated, and hating every moment of it.  "No one can replace you in our home.  Not even me."

Without even turning to look, Shockwave says, "You tried to balance the budget, didn't you?"

Megatron skillfully dodges the question with another question.  "Are you coming home, or no?"

Shockwave downs the rest of his cube, forcing Megatron to figuratively sweat in the tense silence.  Swerve, the bartender, has given up all pretense of pretending to clean, and is sitting at the edge of the tabletop he was bussing, eager to see how this plays out.

There is a soft clink as Shockwave sets his cube down on the table, rises to his feet, and turns to face Megatron.  "It seems that it _is_ the most logical place for me to be."  He looks straight into Megatron's eyes.  Megatron looks straight into _his_ eye.  The music swells.  A Hollywood director might mistake this for a romantic scene, so meaningful their stare is.  But it can only last for so long.  It is Swerve that puts an end to it.

"Aww, that was a really touching story.  10/10, would watch again.  But a guy like me's gotta get home.  I mean, I totally got a loving family to get back to, and I'd like to do that some time tonight, I mean, if you don't mind."  He chuckles, his face a bit flushed.  Running an Autobar trumps staying home and watching soap operas any day.  He approaches the two mechs that tower over him, pulls out a data pad, and slips it into Shockwave's free hand.  "Oh yeah, and here's what you owe me."

Shockwave glances at the bill.  His optic widens and he retreats a step, before turning to Megatron in desperation.  "I believe it is customary for the party in the wrong to treat the wronged party to drinks.  Megatron, if you will?"

Megatron too looks over the bill, grimacing.  "Primus, you've got expensive taste for a guy that doesn't like to have fun."  For one long moment, it looks as though all hope is lost, but then, Megatron looks into his brother's big, blank eye, and has a change of spark.  "Fine," he sighs.  "I'll pay it.  Just this once.  As a token of good will."  He forks over a few credit chips to Swerve, claps a hand around Shockwave's shoulder, and begins to steer his stumbling companion from the bar.  Shockwave, perhaps made chatty by all of the engex he's been imbibing, speaks away all the while.

"Now, there's going to have to be a few changes around here.  In my brief absence, I have realized that my skills are worth more than I have been receiving.  From now on, I would like to receive sufficient payment for my contributions, as well as further control over the spending of money in our house.  The first step will be to severely restrict Starscream's overblown budget."

"That . . . may be problematic," Megatron says, slowing his pace.

"I fail to understand  the reason you  are so insistent on protecting Starscream's budget.  Surely whatever he does cannot be so important."

Megatron pauses at this, slowing to a stop.  And Shockwave waits, curious. 

"Actually, I requested it be like that as a – er –safety net.  Bot spends money whether he has it or not."

"I see," says Shockwave, then begins walking again.  "No matter.  I shall handle Starscream.  It shall not be a problem."

"Fine then," says Megatron, marching  after him.  "Do what you will."

 

-END CREDITS-

_Written By: Darksidekelz and the Mysterious Stranger_

_Characters Played By:  The Brady Bunch_

_Special Thanks to:  Remy the cat._

Soundwave is in Shockwave's lab, staring at a mechanical model of a cybernetic Earth.  From off-screen, he can hear a conversation from elsewhere.

"What do you think you're doing, you freak?!" says Starscream.

"I call it education," Shockwave replies, amping up the volume on _It's a Small World After All._

From his own room, Soundwave shakes his head and pops on a pair of headphones to drown out Starscream's screams.  From within, we can just hear what he's listening to, energetic voices proclaiming that 'Everybody wants to rule the world,' accompanying him as he puts crude models of the family on top of his Earth.  Had he a voice, he would be laughing maniacally.


	6. Thicker Than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream's brothers are in town, unfortunately for everyone.

Today we open on the Decepticon house, Megatron's office.  He is at his desk, fiddling with a pencil.  He is actually quite skilled at the pencil tricks.  Where'd it go?  Oh, there it is, up his bucket helmet.  And now it's gone again!  Oh, it's in his hand.  Clearly, he's not actually doing any work.  Nonetheless, he is upset to be interrupted by a very nervous looking Starscream, so upset that he accidentally tosses his pencil behind him, impaling it in a life-size poster of himself, right through the spark.

"Lord Megatron."

"What is it now, Starscream?" he growls, clearly displeased.  That poster was a gift from his good friend Overlord.

"I thought you'd like to see these."  He hands him two data pads.  Megatron lifts the first to his face, giving the impression that he's near-sighted, and begins reading.

"'Dear Starscream, I'm tired of dealing with that lug-headed imbecile, Skywarp.  He's crossed a line this time, and I need your help to prove him for the fool he is.  I'll be there in the morning.  I take my energon iced,'" he pauses in his reading, glancing up at Starscream with a look of trepidation.  "Thundercracker?"

Starscream doesn't give a straightforward answer to the question, instead leaning against the desk and flicking his hand back towards the data pads.  "Read the other one."

"'Hey dweeb, that asshole TC has pissed me off for the last time.  You're gonna help me put him in his place.  I'll swing by tomorrow morning.  – Skywarp.  P.S.  I take my energon on fire.  If it's not burning, I will kick your aft, so help me Primus!"  He lowers the data pad, depositing it on his desk, his head hung as he contemplates this mix of confusing emotions.  "Starscream, what is this?"

"Well," says Starscream, pushing himself from the desk.  "I'm not fluent in idiot, but it sounds like my brothers are swinging by tomorrow to drag me into yet another one of their disputes."

"No."  The word is strong, definitive.  There is no room for argument, not that it keeps Starscream from trying.

"What do you mean 'no?'"

Megatron pushes himself away from the desk and rises to his feet, not bothering to look at Starscream.  One might get the sense that he is nervous about something.  The pacing adds to the impression.  "Your brothers are chaotic, destructive, and every time the three of you get together, I can't tell you apart."

"It's not _that_ hard," Starscream scoffs, folding his arms.

Megatron doesn't appear to have heard him.  "I'll never be able to show my face to . . ." he trails off, gesticulating for a word he can't quite grasp.

"Thundercracker," Starscream supplies.

"Thundercracker again.  Primus, that was embarrassing."  He stops pacing, instead throwing his head upwards towards the heavens.  Primus is the only one who can see just how traumatized he was by whatever experience it is he is referring to.  Something incredibly awkward, one might assume.

Starscream, however, has no patience for melodrama.  "Look, I know you don't like them, but they're family.  They've been at each other's throats for as long as I can remember, and even if I hate them, I'm not entirely keen on letting them just – kill each other."

Megatron can only groan in response, prompting Starscream to match the reaction.

"Besides, the kids haven't met them yet.  I'm sure they'll love 'em!"  He actually appears sincere for a change.

Megatron contemplates the idea for a moment, his eyes still pointed upwards, but as he comes to his decision, he diverts his attention back to Starscream.  "Fine.  Just make sure I can tell you all apart."  He then stalks off, right past his lovely companion without sparing him so much as a glance.  There is probably some major brooding to be done.

**_-Cut to Black-_ **

Golly gee, it's the opening credits!  They remain unchanged, though you are starting to be able to place even more of the clips used to introduce the characters.  Not all of them though.  Never all of them.

Eventually, Soundwave and Starscream arrive to tell us that the title of this episode is:

**Episode 6: Thicker than Water**

**_-Cut to Blackout-_ **

♪ _Feelin' sad?  Feelin' blue?  Lookin' hard for things to do?_

♪ _Well bots of all ages, listen true_

♪ _'Cause I have got the answer for you_

♪ _Yes, charge up your phazers, it's time for Six Lasers!_

♪ _Six Lasers!_

♪ _It's good clean fun_

♪ _Six Lasers!_

♪ _And we have just begun_

♪ _So get off your asses, and buy them passes_

♪ _To Six Lasers_

♪ _'Til All Are One~_

"Our weekend packages start at $99.97, but deals are limited (to me), so hurry up and call, call _call!_ "  A familiar purple and gold mech waves his arms, triggering a flurry of balloons to pop out from behind him.

♪ _To Six Lasers_

♪ _'Til All Are One~_

**_-And Now Back to our Regularly-Scheduled Programming-_ **

The sun rises bright and early the next morning, and up to greet it are Knock Out and Breakdown, hanging out on the couch, not exactly giddy with excitement.  More like tepid with apathy. Also in the room are Soundwave, who is hanging back in his favorite corner, still as a statue, and Starscream, who is pacing up a frenzy.

"It's been a long time since you've seen your brothers, hasn't it?" Breakdown observes, peeping over the back of the couch.

"We don't really get on well," Starscream replies without missing a beat.  "I never understood it."

Breakdown, in a vain effort to get Starscream's mind on something else, tries to press the issue.  "What are they like?"

Starscream is still pacing, but he answers the question.  "Skywarp is a professional football player, and Thundercracker is a Hollywood screenwriter."

"What?" Breakdown shutters his optics a few times in surprise.  "How did your brothers go on to have such successful careers while you are –" he cuts himself off after a pointed glare from Starscream.  "Well, you," he finishes, lamely.

"Professional gold digger," Knock Out supplies, prompting Starscream to let loose with an agonized scream.

"Where is Megatron?!  He should be here!"  At the end of his rope, he finally stops pacing, in order to storm out of the room in search of his beloved/despised leader.  No sooner than he leaves, however, there is a knock at the door.

Breakdown and Knock Out share a nervous glance, before Knock Out decides to get up an answer it.  What he finds is not what he expected.  Indeed, Skywarp walks through the door, the spitting image of Starscream, only purple and wearing a conspicuously fake beard.  But Knock Out doesn't care about any of that.  He is too busy swooning.  In fact, we can see Skywarp through his eyes, in all of his sparkling, anime-esque glory.  There may be roses and doilies floating about in the background as well.

"You're _that_ Skywarp?!  Star player of the Vos Seekers?" Knock Out doesn't babble, but he is precariously close to doing so.

"One and the same," is Skywarp's lackluster response.  Knock Out is oblivious to the lukewarm reception.  He continues to gush.

" I must say, I loved the way you played in the game against the – uh," he struggles for the word, grasping at the air helplessly, until the answer comes to him.  "The Dinobots."  He shrugs, hoping he got it right.  He doesn't actually pay attention to sports.  He just likes to watch the pretty frames in action.  And who could blame him?

"We lost that game," Skywarp responds, flatly, much to Knock Out's horror.  But he is quick to the save.

"I know, but you were beautiful doing it."  That part he knows is true, at least.  "Are you single?"

Now Skywarp is distinctly uncomfortable.  "Uh . . ."

Thankfully, Breakdown has come to shove his brother aside, saving poor Skywarp from his biggest fan.  "Sorry about him."

Skywarp shrugs, disinterested in anything to do with little red speedsters.  He has other things on his mind.  "So, this _is_ er, Starscream's house, isn't it?"

"Oh!  Oh, yeah, yeah.  He just stepped out for a minute.  He'll be back soon, I'm sure."  Breakdown expected the Seeker to be relieved at the  assertion, but somehow, he only looks more frustrated.  And soon enough, the frustration transforms to fury.  A snide voice is calling out from off-screen.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

And it is in that moment that Thundercracker enters the fray.  He strides through the door, the spitting image of Starscream, only blue and wearing a pretentious beret.  But Breakdown doesn't care about any of that.  He is too busy swooning.  In fact, we can see Thundercracker through his eyes, in all of his sparkling, anime-esque glory.  There may be roses and doilies floating about in the background as well.

"You're – you're _him_!"

"You'll have to be more specific," Thundercracker sighs.  Fortunately, Breakdown is more than capable of doing just that.

"The genius behind 'Dark of the Moon!'" he gushes.  "Aw man, that's my favorite movie!"  Then he pauses, looking around nervously.  "Uh . . . don't tell Starscream I said that . ..  or Soundwave."

The laugh track plays, much to Breakdown's horror.  Thundercracker doesn't seem to notice a thing.

"Always a pleasure to meet a fan."

Before Breakdown can respond, however, a falsetto, mocking voice calls out from inside.  "'Always a pleasure to meet a fan.'"

"You wanna say that again?" Thundercracker hisses.  Sensing an impending blow up, Knock Out is quick to step in and relieve the tension.  It would be a shame if something were to happen to that pretty purple chassis.

"So!" he beams up at Skywarp.  "I gotta ask.  What's with the . . ." he gestures vaguely toward their faces.

"Starscream suggested we wear something to differentiate us," Thundercracker responds with a put upon sigh.

Skywarp glares right back.  "So you picked a stupid hat."

"At least I don't look like a cavebot!" Thundercracker snaps.

"Ah, the sound of screaming."  Everyone turns towards the hallway entrance at the sound of that deep, raspy voice.  "That can only mean one thing."   In walks a cautiously smug Megatron with an all-too disgruntled Starscream.  The latter pries himself from Megatron's arm to go stand beside his brothers.

"Skywarp: purple, beard; Thundercracker: blue, hat; Me: red, me.  Remember that."

Megatron growls at the whole being-treated-like-a-child thing, but nods his understanding, all while conspicuously avoiding making eye-contact with Thundercracker.  Starscream, in the meantime, has turned to address his brothers.

"Now, what is so important that you guys had to come all the way out here?"

"Well," Skywarp begins, only to be cut off by Thundercracker.

"This imbecile here –"

" _Excuse_ me?!  Who's the imbecile now?!"

"You're both imbeciles," Starscream groans.  "Now move it along."

"Right," says Skywarp, turning his back on Thundercracker, so that he doesn't have to look at him.  "So we were talking."

"Screaming," Thundercracker corrects.

" _Screaming_ at each other," Skywarp agrees, rolling his eyes.  He freezes, suddenly looking quite like he forgot to study for a major exam.  "Um . . . Dammit Thundercracker!"  He whirls back around, optics blazing, and gets up in Thundercracker's face.  "You made me lose my place!"

Thundercracker is perfectly satisfied with this outcome, if his smug grin is anything to go by.  "As I was saying.  We ran into each other on the street."

"Ruined my day," Skywarp sighs, all surly-like.

" And we started talking."

" _Arguing._ "

" Hard to say how it started . . ."

"One thing led to another . . ."

"Then this jackass had the gall to say –"

"He thinks Soundwave could beat Shockwave in a fight!"  Skywarp bounds forward triumphantly, pleased to be the first to air his grievance.  The rest of the house is less thrilled.  They all stare at him with empty expressions.  Starscream is the only one who can think to say anything.

"I . . . come again?"

Thundercracker, already bested once, decides it's _his_ turn for words.  "Skywarp here thinks that, if Shockwave and Soundwave were to fight, that Shockwave would actually win."

"Because he would!" Skywarp insists.

Starscream can't believe it.  He slaps a palm to his face, disbelieving the sheer amount of stupidity surrounding him at this very moment.  " _That's_ what this was about?"

Thundercracker tries to defend himself.  "Shockwave is a nerd!  Books, science –"

"You're one to talk," Skywarp jeers.  "Besides – he's ripped!"

"He only has one hand!"

"And his other is a gun!  In what universe could Soundwave possibly win?"

"Any!"  The argument is really starting to get heated now.  Skywarp and Thundercracker are right up in each other's faces, while everyone else watches nervously in the background.  "He's easily the most competent Decepticon, not to mention the fact that he 's a one-man army."

"It doesn't count if he has to rely on Cassettes."

Thundercracker is not dissuaded by the assertion.  "And he's crafty!"

"Like Shockwave's not?"  Skywarp folds his arms and leans in, his helm bumping against his brother's as they glare at one another with fiery optics.  Megatron is getting quite tired of this bullshit.  It is time for him to take charge.

"Enough!" he howls.  "I have better things to do with my time than deal with these trivial arguments."

Skywarp and Thundercracker move away from one another, looking towards the colossal silver patriarch, but Megatron's words don't seem to register with either.   In fact, both mechs look a bit on the mischievous side.

"They live here though," Skywarp begins, only for Thundercracker to jump in again.

"So we thought that maybe . . ."

Megatron doesn't bother letting them finish.  "Get out," he snaps.  "The only members of this family allowed to fight each other are Starscream and myself."

At first, Starscream smirks, clearly pleased with the privileges being Megatron's s/o grants to him.  But then he realizes that pointing and laughing while said s/o gives his brothers the boot is counterproductive to solving his crisis.  He plants himself between the lot of them, patting a hand on Megatron's arm.  Megatron stares at the thing like it is diseased.

"Megatron.  Family," he says, as a reminder, and then, standing on tippy toes and activating his thrusters when that doesn't work, he leans in close to Megatron's audio receptor and adds the coup de gras.  "Don't you want to be a family man?"

Megatron _does_ want to be a family man.  Very much.  It is his one weakness.  And so he caves, sighing and burying his face in a hand.  "One night.  They can stay for _one_ night.  Then they're gone.  And if I find out that they've manipulated my brother and my Soundwave into fighting, so help me Primus –"

"Yes, yes," says Starscream, planting himself back on the ground and waving off big, bad Megatron.  "You're very scary."  With Megatron sated for now, Starscream turns the focus to his bickering brothers.  He marches towards them, clapping a hand on each shoulder, and begins to usher them out.  "But come now, you must be tired.  Let's get the two of you all settled in."

The Seekers have left, but the camera lingers on Megatron as he stares after them, his eyes narrowed.  But it is not anger he projects, but fear.  With a shaky huff, he spins around and stalks off.

**_-Cut to Black-_ **

"'Roses are red, violets are blue, creating a universe is exhilarating, and so are you.'  Aww, ain't that sweet?  That poem is from Codename: Alpha Q, to a very special Kicker.  How about another?

"'Metroplex is tall, you are not, but I still think that you are hot.'  Well there, looks like Codename: Bunny Rabbit is quite fond of Emmy Award-winning actor, Tailgate.  Man, I love this!  One more, before we run out of time!

"'You're a loser, a dolt, a floptimus, I hope you know your aft's _mine,_ Optimus!'  Err . . . I think our Codename: Chin-face could use an expanded vocabulary, and perhaps a lesson in manners, but well, I'm not paid to think, am I?

"Anyway, that looks like all the time we got for today's episode, _Poems from Secret Admirers_.  Next week, join us for _The Inherent Unbalance of Dynamics in Interfaction Shipping_ , with me, your Love Doctor, Blaster!  Sayonara!"

**_-And now back to our regularly-scheduled programming-_ **

Soundwave is in the kitchen, practicing his keytar.  As expected, he is very good.  The song he plays is moving, beautiful, powerful, and sure to be his next hit single.  He is so focused on his music, that he _nearly_ doesn't notice Breakdown sneak in.

"Ah, Soundwave!" he says.  "Funny finding you here!  Sounds good."

Soundwave says nothing, but fixes a severe, inscrutable stare on him.  Were Breakdown a human, he would be sweating beneath it.

"Ah yeah, okay."  He is terrified, but he also is here on a mission, and damned if he leaves without completing it!  "So – uh – what do you think of Shockwave?"

Soundwave responds by playing an audio clip, in Megatron's voice.  {{ If I find out that they've manipulated my brother and my Soundwave into fighting, so help me Primus – }}

Breakdown's eyes grow wide.  "What?  No, no!  That's not what's going on here at all."

Soundwave responds with another clip, this time in Breakdown's voice.  {{ The genius behind 'Dark of the Moon'  That's my favorite movie! }}

Breakdown is breaking down beneath Soundwave's skills.  He's not sure he can do this anymore.  But he _must! "_ Look," he laughs, the laugh of a broken man, "just because I like his movies doesn't mean I'm working for the guy!"  He trails off, realizing the further implications of his earlier blunder. "Wait, you heard that?"

Instead of answering, Soundwave plays another clip.  Thundercracker's voice says, {{ It's clear Megatron doesn't trust me, but you – you're a good kid.  Help me out, and you might just have a role in my next movie.}}

Well, there's no refuting that.  Breakdown slumps, giving up.  "Ah, uh, yeah.  That looks kind of bad, doesn't it?"

Soundwave nods.

"Right.  I'll just be leaving then."  He backs out of the room, waits the appropriate comedic beat, and then pops back in.  "But c'mon!  A _movie_ deal!  Are you sure you can't help a guy out?"

Soundwave stares.

"Right," Breakdown sighs,  "forget I asked."

Breakdown was unsuccessful in his manipulations, but he's not the only one attempting the subterfuge.  The camera takes us to Shockwave's basement laboratory, where he is doing, what can only be described as 'science-y things.'  That is, of course, until he is interrupted by a sudden intruder; a lesser mech would have dropped his test tube, startled, but not Shockwave.

"Ah, it sure is dark in here," says Knock Out, stumbling around in his effort to reach Shockwave.  Shockwave, of course, has no time to play games.

"What does Megatron want?"

"What?"  Knock Out is legitimately confused by the question, though a moment's consideration is enough to clarify.  "Oh no, nothing!  Can't I just visit my favorite uncle because I love him?"

"No one comes to visit me unless Megatron's ordered them to.  I doubt you'd start now."

Knock Out is frustrated that his plan was so easily seen through, but he's not out yet.  In a forced voice, he says,  "Psh, yeah, okay Shockwave!  Whatever you say."  Shockwave doesn't respond to this, so he figures he's in the clear to make an effort at pursuing his actual mission.  "So, have you heard?"

"I hear many things," is Shockwave's concise reply.

"I mean, about Soundwave."

Shockwave doesn’t' so much as spare him a glance.  "Yes, he did rearrange my lab, but he fixed it for me, so that's water under the bridge."

"I don't know about that," Knock Out says, folding his arms.  "He thinks you're useless and gross, and never should have come back."

"He told you this."  Still, Shockwave seems unperturbed.

"Well, yeah."

At last, Shockwave spares a glance for Knock Out.  "I find that doubtful.  _You_ may think that, however.  Anyway, even if that were the case, I have no reason to care about what Soundwave thinks about anyone or anything."  And just like that, he goes right back to playing with beakers and shit.

Knock Out thinks he sees his opening and leans in close, grinning wide.  "Ooh, a touch defensive, are we?"

Shockwave fixes an empty stare on him.  "You're trying to goad me.  Why?"

Knock Out has been found out, and he's not thrilled about it.  He backs away, imaginary robo-sweat beading at his brow.  "Uh . .. no reason."

But unfortunately for him, he's _finally_ gained Shockwave's interest.  "Who sent you?  Surely not Megatron.  He's learned his lesson." He pauses for a moment, to consider alternate solutions, while Knock Out continues to try and back away.  A clawed hand on his shoulder keeps him fastened to the spot.  "Ah, yes.  Starscream's brothers are in town.  Perhaps it was one of them?  And you always did appreciate the more athletic mechs.  You're here at Skywarp's behest.  He wants Soundwave and I to fight, probably in order to resolve some sort of dispute with Thundercracker."

There's no convincing him otherwise.  Shockwave knows the truth; it's time for Knock Out to get the hell outta dodge.  "Err, I think I'll just . . ."  He is interrupted mid-shuffling out of the room by the bulky frame of Shockwave.

"Tell him that his efforts are not welcome.  He can expect retaliation if he tries again."

"R-right."

Back in the hallway outside of Shockwave's lab, Skywarp stands awkwardly, his arms folded, his toe tapping.  He does not look _at all_ suspicious.  He perks up when Knock Out pops out of the lab.

"So?"

Knock Out staggers right past him without sparing a second-glance.  What unusual behavior for a mech who was so very smitten only minutes ago.

"Shockwave is a scary guy," is all he manages to say as he passes by.  But Skywarp is not done yet.  He trots after his young protégé.

"Did you get him?"

"He says if you try that again, he will come after you," Knock Out responds in a daze, much to Skywarp's anger.

"You told him I sent you?"

At last Knock Out acknowledges him, shooting Skywarp a bitter glare.  "He knew!"  And then he turns away to continue his trek.  "He's some kind of monster," he mutters.

"Ugh," Skywarp groans as he watches Knock Out leave.  "I'm surrounded by fools.  Go on then, ya little twerp!  I'll do it myself."  A puff of smoke, a cheesy purple cg effect, and Skywarp stands in a very familiar master bedroom.  "Uh . . . now where am I?"

"Ah, there you are."

Skywarp turns slowly at the sound of the sensual voice, to find Megatron on the bed, lying in a contrived sensual position, one that he probably contorted himself into with haste upon Skywarp's entrance.  Skywarp, is, of course, terrified to have popped in on Megatron, and right while he was in the middle of being subversive and undermining and stuff.  What _are_ the odds?

"Oh, look man," he chokes, backing away,  "I wasn't trying anything subversive or undermining or anything!"

Are they playing a game?  Surely they must be?  Megatron rises to his feet, closing the distance between him and Skywarp in record time, though instead of pulling the Seeker into his arms and making sweet robot love to him, Megatron chooses to loom.  That is the game they play.  He is very good at the game.  Watch him get even better!

"Subversive?" he repeats, drawing out the word with a knowing smile.  "Why would you say that?  You and your brothers plotting against me now?"  There is laughter in his voice.  Buried laughter.  Buried beneath layers of heavy scorn and threat.  A professional Megatron reader would see right through the behavior, but poor Skywarp is no pro.

"What?!" he squeaks.  "No, I swear!"

_This_ is what Megatron's been waiting for.  Time to step up his game!  "Oh, because the word of a traitor is so valuable," he sneers.

"I promise, I'm not!" Skywarp protests.  He is so going to die.

But Megatron does not kill Skywarp.  Instead, he deflates, as though he'd been expecting some great volley, and Skywarp failed to deliver.  But Megatron is not finished with the game yet.

"Speaking of your brothers, I don't want a repeat of this.  Don't ever bring them here again."

"Huh?" 

Megatron has advanced, leaving Skywarp with no choice but to trip over, and subsequently, onto the bed behind him.  This is getting risqué now.  Megatron follows him onto the bed.

"Already, Soundwave's informed me that they're using the kids to make trouble.  And yet, you continue to vouch for them."  His words sound angry, but his actions imply the opposite.  What is going _on_ here?

"W-wait a minute. . ." Skywarp protests.  It's not that he has anything against Megatron – he's a very handsome mech, after all.  But this is all so sudden, and Megatron is with _Starscream_ , and if Starscream found out that Megatron was into his little brother more than _him_ , well, Skywarp would never play sports ever again.  He needs to reject Megatron, firmly enough that he gets the message, but kindly enough that he doesn't get dead.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Megatron backs off before a single word is uttered, leaning back on his knees in a huff.  "What's wrong with you today?"

"I –" Skywarp tries to explain, but Megatron isn't listening.

"Do I no longer turn you on?"

"What?!"  Skywarp is shocked.  His brain is trying so very hard to put the pieces together – the flirtyness, the strange words – there _must_ be some kind of connection!  But before he can _quite_ figure out what it is, he is interrupted by an . . .

**_-Ominous Cut to Blackout-_ **

"Dear Grimlock – That's Me, Grimlock!  Dear Grimlock, it has recently come to my attention that _someone_ , some _uncultured_ hack has moved in on your glorious, dinosaurric territory of helping unsatisfied viewers solve their miserable little problems.  Some ugly, smooth-voiced Autobot calling himself 'The Love Doctor.'  I think he is an awful poser who needs to go away, but what do _you_ think, Grimlock?  Signed – A Disgruntled Talk-Show Host.

"Well, Disgruntled Talk-Show Host, me, Grimlock suggest you find Love Doctor, and bash brains in.  Is only good way to teach him, Love Doctor to not steal other bots' jobs.  That's what me, Grimlock think!"

- _Cue happy jazz instrumental-_

**_-And now back to our regularly-scheduled programming-_ **

We come back from our break to a (somewhat) less awkward scenario, Starscream and Thundercracker are having a conversation.  This conversation takes place in a public, and by extension (significantly) less awkward room, like a kitchen or a hallway.  Let's hang with them for a bit.

"So . . .?" Starscream prompts, not at all awkwardly.

"So what?" Thundercracker retorts.  "Today's been a failure.  I can't prove Skywarp wrong.  Your kids are useless spies.  I have to wear this stupid hat!"  He throws the thing on the ground, grinding it under his foot.  He is clearly a displeased little Thundercracker.  But Starscream?  He is terrified.  His eyes widen like a cornered beast, and he dives to the floor, to rescue the poor hat.  Once freed from its Thundercracker-foot-grave, Starscream shakes it out, and offers it to his brother.  Thundercracker is not amused, and makes no move to grab it, but Starscream does not give a shit.  He is persistent and terrified.

"Don't do that!" he chastises.  "That's the only thing keeping Megatron from mistaking you for me!"

"Then Megatron's an idiot," Thundercracker replies, folding his arms over his chest in a huff.

"But you remember what happened last time!"

Thundercracker does.  And the memory of his last encounter with Megatron is enough to compel him to take the hat from Starscream, and place it firmly upon his head.

With his victory (and dignity) secured, Starscream moves on to getting on Thundercracker's case for some other reason.  It's what he's good at.  "I don't see why this is so important to you.  Who cares if Soundwave or Shockwave is stronger?  We all know I would wipe the floor with the both of them anyway."

"This isn't about Soundwave and Shockwave," Thundercracker pouts.  "This is about beating Skywarp." 

Starscream is taken aback by the admission.  He draws away, aghast.  "Why does _that_ matter?  You're brothers!  What could he have possibly done to make you hate him so much?"

With a completely deadpan face, Thundercracker asks, "You' don't remember?"

And Starscream responds, "Remember what?"

"The way he –" 

But before Thundercracker has a chance to explain himself both Seekers hear a voice, familiar and angry, shouting from off-screen – words we all know by now.  "You fail me yet again, Starscream!"

"Hold on," Starscream sighs, resigned.  "My master calls."  He makes his exit.

But Starscream's exit leads us cutting back to the immensely awkward scene that was unfolding between Megatron and Skywarp, and we are all rather uncomfortable about it.  We can only hope that Starscream will arrive quickly to clear this misunderstanding up.  And by 'we,' I mostly mean 'Skywarp.'

"The time for foreplay is over!" Megatron declares, boisterously.

"Oh Primus!"  Skywarp thinks he might die of embarrassment.  Admittedly, he _could_ teleport out of the room at any moment, yes, but how would Megatron respond to that?  Was Megatron _truly_ into him?  How long had this been?  What was even happening?  Where did he go wrong?  All of the questions fly through his head, but in the confusion, there is only one certainty.  The fault lies entirely with Starscream.

"Do I not arouse you anymore?!" Megatron is across the room, pacing, throwing his arms in the air, being baffled and angry.  Skywarp, on the other hand, is getting increasingly flustered.

"What are you even talking about?!  Stop yelling at me!"

"Is it Optimus?" Megatron asks, performing a perfect pirouette to face Skywarp, who is now equal parts impressed and confused.

"Optimus?  What?"

"Megatron!!"  And now the jig is up.  Starscream stands in the doorway, gazing upon this scene with anger, dismay, jealousy, and a twinge of disappointment. 

Megatron stares between Starscream and his brother.  "Starscream?"  He double takes.  He triple takes.  And then, enlightenment dawns upon him.  "Oh . . .  Well, this is awkward."  Then, to Skywarp specifically, he says, "Uh, sorry.  I thought you were _him_."

Starscream is having none of this.  "He's _purple_!  I'm _red_!" he protests.

Megatron stares long and hard between the two, looking for visual discrepancies, before giving up with a shrug.  "Yeah, I don't see it."

"He's wearing a fragging _beard_ for Primus's sake," Starscream tries again, smacking a palm to his face.

Megatron can only gaze thoughtfully into space, a ponderous claw tap tapping at his chin.  "Y'know, I was wondering about that."

Starscream throws up his arms in defeat.  "You're the worst!  My brother!  My fragging brother!"

And this?  This is what Megatron has been waiting for all along.  With a satisfied smile, he offers his retort.  "Well, what was he doing in my room anyway?"

"Who cares?!" snaps Starscream, though the barest hint of a smirk has made a home on his lips.  "How can you not tell me apart from my brothers?!"

"Maybe if you didn't all look the same."

Starscream's optics blaze bright with an angry, passionate fire.  "I can't _believe_ you'd say something like that!  You know, maybe if _you_ paid the slightest bit of attention to me, instead of always pining after Optimus . . ."

"Oh, you wanna bring _him_ into this?!"

Skywarp looks on in terrified silence for a long while, but Megatron and Starscream have been gradually moving closer to one another, and now there are _hands_ , and he feels rather like he oughtn't to be here right now.  "I'll uh . . . just be leaving then."

Without taking their eyes off of one another, Megatron and Starscream both snap, "Fine!" and continue with their own argument.

Back in the den, Thundercracker is chilling with Breakdown and Soundwave.  But this is not pleasant chilling.  Thundercracker is nearly as distraught as Skywarp, though he's taken a turn for the morose.

"I give up," he sighs.  "I don't know why I bothered with this place."

Soundwave cocks his head, staring Thundercracker straight in the eye.  One can assume anyway.  Soundwave doesn't exactly have eyes of his own.

Thundercracker replies, with a dramatic wrist to his forehead, "I was foolish to think that you could help fix my family.  There's no fixing this mess.  Starscream's almost as bad as the oaf."

"Does this mean you won't be staying?" Breakdown asks with a piteous tear in his eye.

"Pretty much," is the swift reply.

Breakdown isn't totally ready to give up just yet.  With his last ounce of hope, he asks, "And the movie deal?"

"Not a chance."  Ouch.  Shot down in the prime of his youth.  What a way to go.  But wait!  Someone approaches!

"That is just like you to go back on a deal!"

It is Skywarp, slightly flustered, but more peeved.  He has witnessed Thundercracker's brutal trampling upon Breakdown's dream, and he will not abide it.  But only because he's looking for a reason to pick a fight with his brother.

Thundercracker, as usual, is not particularly impressed by the show.  "Oh, look who's arrived."

"'Oh look who's arrived,'" Skywarp mocks, mimicking Thundercracker's face with a hand puppet.  It's not a very good impression.  He drops it quickly.  "And look who's leaving!  I mean, _I_ can go sans all the guilt.  After all, I didn't woo any nephews of mine with false promises of moviestardom.  Also, Megatron probably doesn't like me for some reason."

Breakdown perks up at the strange non-sequitor added to the end of the sentence.  Suddenly, the constant screaming from upstairs makes much more sense.  "Um, actually . . ." he says, and draws close to whisper in Skywarp's ear.

"Oh?" says Skywarp, intrigued.  "Oh . . . really?  So _that's_ why he was yelling at me!"

"Really really," agrees Knock Out, emerging from Shockwave's basement.  It is highly unlikely that he heard Breakdown, which would imply that this conversation is one had many a time.  But he doesn't leave anyone much time to dwell.  "Look who I got to leave his cave!" 

Shockwave emerges, expression neutral as ever, though the rest of the room marvels in awe.

"How'd you manage that?" Breakdown asks, more than a little jealous that Knock Out pulled off what he'd failed to.  Shockwave is quick to put an end to _that_ misassumption, however.

"He has done nothing.  I, however, have come to the realization that, should Starscream remain part of this family, that the dysfunction in his own family may follow him, and cause trouble, a fact that is already apparent."

The awed stares morph into blank ones.  What is he saying, exactly?  Skywarp hazards a guess.  "Uh . . . does that mean you geeks are gonna fight?"

The silly comment is rewarded with some canned laughter, courtesy of Soundwave.  Shockwave, however, is not laughing.

"What this means, is that I intend to resolve your problem before you destroy our family unit."

"Please," Thundercracker scoffs, folding his arms and scowling.  "There's no reasoning with this moron."

"Asshole," Skywarp bites back.

"Skywarp," Shockwave interrupts, before the argument can get too heated.

"Yes sir!"

"What is your issue with Thundercracker?"

"Well," Skywarp says, suddenly very interested in looking anywhere but at Shockwave.  "He's kind of an obnoxious, pretentious bigshot with no regard for the little guys."

"Excuse me?!" Thundercracker snaps back, but Shockwave holds up his one hand to silence him.

"Hold your tongue, Thundercracker.  Your turn is next.  Now, Skywarp, have you always felt this way?"

Skywarp thinks about this really hard.  He's hated Thundercracker for so long, that it's difficult for him to remember a time when he didn't.  But maybe . . . "Uh, no?  We – uh – we used to get along . . . I think?"

"And when did this all change?" Shockwave presses.

"Well, uh," Skywarp stammers as he tries to find the right memory file.  "I mean, when I was little, I always wanted to be a writer, yeah?  But Screamer read one of my screenplays – told me it was shit – that I should stick to sports.  And then Thundercracker was always just so good at writing, always shoving it in my face – he had everything I wanted.  I guess I resented him."  And then, a lightbulb goes on in Skywarp's head; he's had a major epiphany.  "Huh," is what he has to say about that.  Thundercracker has _slightly_ more.

"Skywarp . . ." he says, with a wistful look in his eye.  He's never understood his brother in such a way before.  It is touching.

"And you, Thundercracker?" Shockwave prompts.

"I – I always wanted to play football . . . Starscream told me I had no talent though, and that I should be writing – and Skywarp . . . wow.  All this time, I've been such an aft."

"Me too, man," Skywarp sobs.  "I'm sorry!"

"I'm even more sorry!" cries Thundercracker, throwing himself into Skywarp's arms for a long-overdue embrace.  It is all very touching.  A chorus of 'awwws' sounds from overhead.  But the moment is short-lived.  Thundercracker has not met his epiphany quota for the day.  His eyes flash with grim realization, though he does not let go of Skywarp.  "Of course, this means the one really responsible for our problems . . ."

Right on cue, Starscream struts down the stairs with a disgruntled and confused Megatron in tow.

"Do I have to stand us in a row for you to figure it out?!" he hisses, marching in the direction of his brothers with a clear purpose in his mind.

"Starscream," Megatron protests, then repeats again in warning, as he sees the wicked looks on Skywarp and Thundercracker's faces.

"Starscream!" the pair echo, firing their blasters into Starscream, leaving him charred and angry, but alive.  He stumbles to his feet, plumes of smoke wafting from his frame. 

"What the frag are you chuckleheads doing?!"

Skywarp and Thundercracker are in no mood to banter, however.  They move in, guns raised, ready to take out Starscream from point blank range.  Megatron seems to find this all incredibly amusing, if his eager smile and gleeful cry of, "Oh ho," are anything to go by.

"You're the one who ruined my life!" Thundercracker cries, his blaster shaking in his trembling hands.

"Yeah, and mine!" Skywarp adds.

"Not to mention our relationship," Thundercracker adds, motioning between himself and Skywarp.  Starscream however, is confused, as well as charred.

"What are you even talking about?" he coughs.

"I can't believe I didn’t see it before!" Thundercracker continues, more for his own benefit than Starscream's.  But he does eventually turn to acknowledge his much-hated brother, just in time to add, "Well, you're not keeping me from my dreams anymore!"

"What?"  Starscream's eyes widen and he takes a step away from the accusative finger pointing at his face.

Thundercracker greets the movement with a grand proclamation.  "Im going to be a football player now!"

"Huh?"  It is all Starscream can do not to chuckle.  But he is pretty certain that, were he to do so, he would be shot.  Instead, he can only tilt his head.

It seems that Thundercracker's proclamation is not enough.  Now _Skywarp_ wants in on the life-changing resolutions.  "Well, then I'm giving up football to be a screenwriter.  Just where I've always longed to be.  C'mon TC."  He motions to his brother, and the two trot off, leaving behind a very perplexed Starscream and a very embarrassed Megatron. 

While everybody else is watching the Seekers leave, however, Shockwave and Soundwave linger at the back, close to one another, beyond anyone's attention.

"What a simple solution that turned out to be," Shockwave comments.  "Do you suppose they'll find success?"

Soundwave shakes his head.

"And to think," he continues, "the catalyst was the thought that _you_ could beat _me_ in a fight."

Soundwave plays the laugh track to comment on the absurdity of the situation.

"We all know that you would never beat me in a fight."

The canned laughter stops abruptly.  Soundwave turns to Shockwave, disgruntled, and points pointedly at himself.

"Hm?  Don't kid yourself, Soundwave."

Soundwave plays the laugh track again, prompting Shockwave's own irritation.

"Very well, Soundwave.  If that is how you would like things to be.

The two face off, dramatically.  There are epic guitars and violent drums, and you find yourself eager to watch what is certain to be this most badass of fights.  Soundwave vs. Shockwave?  Hellz fucking yeah!  And of course, the music choice was intentional; Soundwave picked it after all.

Well, the actual fight is not quite so epic as promised.  Mostly there is rolling around and crashing into things – in the background of course.  The rest of the house doesn't even seem to notice, so busy are they in waving off Thundercracker and Skywarp.

"Do you think this means they won't be here for Christmas?" Megatron asks, wearing the most blatantly fake smile to ever have been faked.  Starscream matches the expression in intensity and fear.

"Dear Primus, I hope so."

-CUE END CREDITS:-

_-Written by:  Darksidekelz and the Mysterious Stranger_

_-Characters played by:  Five escaped vampiric clones of Samuel L. Jackson_

_-Special Thanks to:  Spending way too much money on plastic figurines-_

Sometime later, Skywarp and Thundercracker are sitting in Swerve's Autobar, both obviously upset.  Thundercracker, however, is also a bit roughed up.

"I think I've made a mistake," Skywarp says, downing his shot of Jet Grade.

"Do tell," is Thundercracker's bitter reply.  Skywarp seems to miss the sarcasm in his brother's voice, and does just that.

"I may have been okay for a kid, but I've spent so long not writing, that, now that I've picked it up again, I really suck at it."

"You don't say," says Thundercracker, nursing his partially shattered cranium.  One wonders if perhaps he should go see a doctor.  Skywarp is still oblivious.

"They laughed my screenplay out of Hollywood, and told me never to come back.  I thought  Susan Journeyer would be universally loved but . . ." he trails off, slumping over with a sigh.  "I think I want my old job back."

"Good," says Thundercracker, more responsive than he's been all night.  "Football is a lot harder than I thought it would be.  You can have your job back."

"I still can't believe nobody noticed our twin switch," Skywarp muses.  "I mean, we look nothing alike.  You're blue, I'm purple."

"Uh yeah."  Thundercracker offers a whole-hearted shrug.  He too has no idea why that ridiculous scheme of theirs was able to work.  Perhaps they should try varying their frames and faces, rather than just their colors?  . . . Nah.

He takes a long sip of his Jet Grade, then stares into the distance, or just the wall, musing.  "Susan Journeyer, huh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, my schedule slipped a bit (didn't help that I discovered a whole extra chapter!)
> 
> The next chapter is gonna be . . . interesting. It's a 'Christmas special,' but it's also a miracle, which would've worked a lot better in this story's original format. There are like, actual songs and stuff. Not sure how I'm gonna pull it off, but we'll see x.x


End file.
